University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


MARSH  FAMILY  PAPERS 


pa  pan 


THE 


WORKS, 


IN 


VERSE    AND   PROSE, 


OF  THE  LATE 


EGBERT  TREAT  PAINE.  JUN.  ESQ. 


WITH  NOTES. 


TO  WHICH  ARE  PREFIXED, 


SKETCHES 


OF  HIS 


LIFE,  CHARACTER    AND   WRITINGS. 


Diis sacer  est  vates,  divumque  sacerdos, 

Spirat  et  occultum  pectus  et  ora  Jovem. 
MILT:  VJ.  ELEG  : 


BOSTON  :  ftC 

PRINTED  AND  PUBLISHED   BY  J.  BELCHEK 

1812.  V 


a 


.'./  L, 


DISTRICT  OF   MASSACHUSETTS,  TO  WIT: 

District  Clerk's  OJi'ce. 

BE  it  remembered  that  on  the  28th  day  of  October,  in  the 
thirty  seventh  year  of  the  Independence  of  the  United  States  of  Amer- 
ica, JOSHUA  BELCHER,  of  the  said  district,  has  deposited  in  this 
office  the  title  of  a  book,  the  right  whereof  he  claims  as  proprietor, 
in  the  words  following  to  wit : 

"The  Works,  in  Verse  and  Prose,  of  the  late  ROBERT  TREAT 
PAINE,  J UN.  Esq_  with  Notes.  To  which  are  prefixed,  Sketches  of 
his  Life,  Character  and  Writing's. 

JJiis ..sneer  est  votes,  divfanqne  sacerdos, 

Spiral  et  occultum  pect us  et  ora  Jovem. 

MILT  :  VI.  ELEG  :" 

In  conformity  to  the  act  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States, 
entitled,  "  An  Act  for  the  encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing 
die  copies  of  maps,  charts,  and  books,  to  the  authors  and  proprietors 
of  such  copies,  during  the  times  therein  mentioned  ;w  and  also  to  an 
act  entitled,  "  An  act  supplementary  to  an  act,  entitled,  An  act  for 
the  encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing  the  copies  of  maps,  charts 
and  books,  to  the  authors  and  proprietors  of  such  copies,  during  the 
times  therein  mentioned  ;  and  extending  the  benefits  thereof  to  the 
arts  of  designing,  engraving,  and  etching,  historical  and  other  prints." 

WILLIAM  S.  SHJ 


PREFACE. 


IT  is  now  somewhat  more  than  eight  months  since  proposals 
were  issued  for  this  edition  of  Mr.  Paine's  works.  This  inter- 
val, it  is  said,  is  unreasonably  long  ;  and  it  is  sometimes  inti- 
mated, in  no  very  equivocal  language,  that  the  publication 
has  been  delayed,  till  the  author  and  his  writings  are  no 
longer  of  sufficient  interest  to  retain  their  share  of  the  gen- 
eral curiosity. 

For  this  delay,  had  it  been  needless,  the  publick  might 
certainly  exact  an  apology.  When  however  the  causes,  that 
have  retarded  the  press,  are  recounted,  the  period  of  publica- 
tion will  not  appear  to  have  been  wantonly  protracted.  Of 
these  causes,  too  many  and  various  to  be  distinctly  enumer- 
ated, the  principal  were,  the  disorder  of  Mr.  Paine's  manu- 
scripts, and  the  difficulties  attending  the  search  for  his  printed 
essays.  The  latter  of  these  causes  was  of  much  more  influ- 
ence than  the  former. 

The  manuscripts  required  nothing  but  arrangement  and 
selection  ;  but  the  printed  essays  were  often  to  be  recovered 
from  journals,  which,  having  been  long  since  discontinued, 
were  not  always  remembered.  Newspapers  and  Magazines 
for  a  series  of  twenty  years  were  to  be  consulted.  From  this 
examination,  though  far  from  heedless  or  desultory,  it  is  not 
improbable  that  many  pieces  have  escaped. 


•VI  PREFACE. 

The  volume  contains  nothing,  that  is  not  known  to  be  Mr. 
Paine's,  by  evidences  stronger,  if  that  were  necessary,  than  even 
the  characteristicks  of  his  peculiar  and  unborrowed  manner  j 
except  only  the  verses  of  an  accomplished  lady,  whom  it  is 
easy  to  commend  to  her  full  deserts,  without  forcing  her  into 
a  thankless  and  unwarrantable  comparison  with  that  Lesbian 
enchantress,  whose  lyre  subdues  the  listener  to  a  deaf  and 
dizzy  delight,  not  unlike  that,  which  she  herself  experienced 
when  gazing  on  her  favourite  : 


ftV  <f  a,X,COU  Fflfc 

Beside  these  two,  other  causes  of  obstruction  have  not 
failed  to  operate.  Every  one,  who  has  undertaken  to  publish 
an  Author's  remains,  will  acknowledge,  that  to  such  an  under- 
taking there  are  incident  many  obstacles,  which,  before  he 
ventured  on  the  task,  he  could  hardly  have  imagined  possible  ; 
to  such  persons  enough  has  been  said  ;  and  those,  who  do  not 
care  to  become  editors,  would  feel  little  gratitude  for  a  reca- 
pitulation of  the  discouragements,  under  which  this  collection 
has  gradually  grown  and  spread  to  its  present  size  and  form. 

At  length  the  work  is  abroad  ;  and  it  is  not  without  anxiety, 
that  Mr.  Paine's  friends  await  the  decision  of  the  publick. 
The  author  is,  indeed,  removed  beyond  the  reach  of  censure  ; 
and  the  voice  of  praise,  however  chaste  and  sincere,  if  not  lost 
in  the  bustle  of  the  world,  will  sigh  only  in  a  faint  and  barren 
echo  through  the  chambers  of  death.  This  volume,  warmly 
and  cordially  welcomed,  will  do  much  to  soothe  an  afflicted 
family.  A  proud  neglect  or  a  sullen  rejection  may  embitter 
the  cup  of  sorrow  with  the  tears  of  honest  and  indignant  pride. 

Although  the  work  consists,  for  the  most  part,  of  occasional 
performances,  yet  with  local  and  temporary  topickb  Mr.  Paine 
has  not  unfrequently  connected  subjects  of  general  and  per- 
manent interest.  From  his  Prize  Prologue,  may  be  learnt 
the  progress  of  the  scenick  art  ;  and  one  can  hardly  open  the 
Ruling  Passion  without  encountering  something,  that  may 
enlarge  his  knowledge,  or  elevate  his  virtue,  or  ennoble  his 
patriotism.  The  Monody  on  Sir  John  Moore,  though  the  fate 
and  character  of  that  gallant  officer  might  furnish  materials 


P  HE  PACE.  vii 

for  a  more  elaborate  panegy  rick,  is  not  destitute  of  moral  instruc- 
tion ;  and  many  of  his  festal  songs  are  of  such  an  impress,  as 
to  shew  that  Mr.  Paine  was  not  always  content  to  filter  off  his 
political  opinions  from  the  common  sewers,  but  could,  if  he 
thought  himself  bound  to  such  exertion,  ascend  to  the  living 
springs  of  truth  and  right. 

Although  the  Prize  Prologue  will  at  once  shew  itself  to  be 
considerably  improved,  yet  that  poem,  even  as  now  printed, 
did  not  satisfy  him,  and  Mr.  Paine  was  resolved  on  further 
improvements.  He  had  sketched  with  great  boldness  and 
felicity,  the  characters  of  the  principal  writers  for  the  English 
stage.  Of  these  characters,  when  to  each  he  had  assigned 
his  proper  features,  and  imparted  to  all  something  of  that 
enthusiasm,  which  the  mere  thought  of  Shakespeare  and  His 
successors  was  seen  to  kindle  in  his  own  bosom,  he  had  deter* 
mined  to  form  a  gallery  of  portraits.  It  is  to  be  lamented,  that 
this  determination  was  forgotten  almost  as  soon  as  made.  Some 
additions  are  interwoven  with  the  Invention  of  Letters ;  and 
similar  emendations  were  projected  for  many  of  his  other 
poems.  But  his  latter  years  were  dark'and  cheerless  ;  and  he 
seems  never  to  have  summoned  his  powers  to  an  attempt, 
which  he  was  not  unwilling  to  contemplate,  as  feasible  only  to 
a  sound  and  active  health. 

These  remarks  are  not  designed  to  propitiate  the  stern  or 
interest  the  tender.  Neither  is  it  intended  by  what  may  follow, 
to  defy  the  austerity  of  criticism,  or  to  interdict  to  any  bosom 
the  indulgence  of  a  generous  sympathy. 

The  book,  such  as  it  is,  is  now  open  on  its  merits  to  discus- 
sion ;  and,  while  it  is  not  ambitious  of  a  place  in  the  reviews, 
it  does  not  shrink  from  a  strict  and  impartial  scrutiny.  Like 
other  posthumous  works,  it  will  undoubtedly  betray  many 
venial,  and  a  few  almost  inexpiable  faults.  It  will  also  present 
no  scanty  measure  of  beauties,  some  of  the  softest  grace,  and 
others  of  the  brightest  bloom.  The  same  page  that  is  here 
tarnished  with  blemishes,  which  the  slightest  attention  may 
seem  sufficient  to  have  prevented,  may  there  sparkle  with 
decorations,  such  as  the  happiest  fancy  in  its  most  propitious 
moments  can  hardly  hope  to  surpass. 
2 


Tin  PREFACE. 

The  notes,  promised  in  the  proposals,  it  was  originally  in- 
tended to  throw  into  the  margin ;  but  this  intention  being 
resigned,  the  Editor's  labours  will  be  found  at  the  end  of  the 
volume.  From  assigning,  as  at  first  proposed,  so  much  of  the 
whole  commentary  to  each  production,  as  its  worth,  whether 
admitted  or  assumed,  might  have  claimed,  the  Editor  soon 
found  it  necessary  to  desist.  Had  he  continued  the  notes,  as 
begun,  his  pages  might  have  out-numbered  the  author's. 
Many  pieces  are,  accordingly,  dispatched  in  a  single  sentence  ; 
and  some  are  silently  dismissed,  not  because  they  do  not  some- 
times require,  and  might  not  always  admit  explanation,  but 
lest  productions  of  higher  dignity  or  deeper  interest,  might  be 
defrauded  of  their  proportion  of  the  commentary. 

%  Meagre  as  the  notes  are,  they  would  have  been  still  more 
meagre,  had  not  a  liberal  and  elegant  friendship  suggested 
many  grounds  of  comparison  and  sources  of  illustration.  Thus 
assisted,  however,  and  enabled,  beside  his  own  slender  stock 
of  learning,  to  command  the  resources  of  a  rich  and  vigorous 
mind,  the  Editor  does  not  presume  to  think,  that  his  labours 
will  afford  any  light  to  the  only  persons,  who  will  probably 
ever  inspect  the  commentary,  to  the  lovers  of  sound  literature 
and  the  patrons  of  genuine  criticism. 

Lest  he  should  be  accused  of  permitting  errors,  which  he 
had  no  means  of  excluding,  to  obtrude  themselves;  or  applaud- 
ed for  accuracy  and  excellence,  from  which,  as  he  contributed 
nothing  to  their  production,  he  is  not  entitled  to  any  portion  of 
praise,  it  becomes  the  Editor  to  declare,  that  he  holds  himself 
responsible  for  the  text  only,  and  the  notes  subjoined  to  the  text. 


CONTENTS. 


SKETCHES  of  the  Life,  Character  and  Writings  of  the 

late  Robert  Treat  Paine,  Jun.  Esq.  page  13 

.Monody  on  the  Death  of  Robert  Treat  Paine,  Jun.  Esq.       88 

Columbia's  Bard,      -  89 

Tributary  Lines,  on  the  Death  of  Robert  Treat  Paine 

Jun.  Esq.      ------  -90 


THE  WORKS  OF 

ROBERT  TREAT  PAINE,  JUN.  ESQ. 

PART  I. 

COLLEGE  EtERCISES. 

Preface,     -  5 

Theme,  "  An  undevout  astronomer  is  mad,"     -  7 

Theme,  Sacred  to  the  memory  of  Bowdoin,  -       15 

Theme,  "Know  then  thyself;  presume  not  God  to  scan,"  20 

Theme,  "Homo  sum;  humani  nihil  a  me  alienum  puto,"  26 

Theme,  "  Humanum  est  errare,"  (part  of,)  -  -     3 1 

Sensibility,  lines  on,  35 

Pastoral, — Damon  and  Corydon,     -  -     4 1 

Forensick  Disputation,  lines  in  conclusion  of,      -  46 

The  Refinement  of  Manners,  an  Exhibition  Poem,  -     47 

Valedictory  Poem,  on  leaving  College,       -  60 

The  Nature  and  Progress  of  Liberty,  A.  B.  Poem,  -     70 

Pastoral,' — Morning,  Noon  and  Evening,     -  77 


*  CONTEXTS.       . 

Reflections  on  a  lonely  Hill,  which  commanded  the  pros- 
pect of  a  Burying  ground,  -  88 
Lines  to  Miss  ****,  83 
Fragment,  -  -  84 
Lines,  supposed  to  belong  to  the  Invention  of  Letters,  86 
Eclogue,  first  of  Virgil's,  translated,  87 
Ode,  tenth  of  second  Book  of  Horace,  translated,  -  -  92 
Ode,  fifth  of  first  Book  of  Horace,  translated,  -  93 
Stanzas,  on  receiving  a  Frown  from  Cynthia,  -  94 
Ode,  ninth  of  third  Book  of  Horace,  translated,  96 
Nymph,  the  laurelled,  addressed  to  Philenia,  -  98 
Ode  to  Compassion,  -  -  101 
Golden  Age,  translated  from  Ovid's  Metamorphoses,  102 
Lines  to  Harriot,  on  a  bunch  of  Roses  presented  to  the 

Author,  -     104 

Verses  to  a  young  Lady,                              -  105 

Ode,  of  Sappho's,  translated,        -  -     108 

Ode  to  Winter,       -  109 

Song,  the  Lass  of  Eden  Grove,   -        -                 -  -     1 1 J 


PART  II. 

MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 

Edwin  and  Emma,  -                            115 

Monody,  to  the  Memory  of  William  H.  Brown,   -         -     1 1 8 

Self  Complacency,  -                  121 

Stanzas,  addressed  to  Thomas  Brattle,  Esq.  -     124 

Stanzas,  addressed  to  Miss  B.  125 

Stanzas  to  Clora,                  -  -     126 

Sonnet  to  Eliza,      »                            -  128 

Sonnet  to  Belinda,      -  -         ...    ibid. 

Menander  to  Philenia,     -  129 

Philenia  to  Menander,  »         »                  -     132 

Mtnander  to  Philenia,     -  •«         134 

Sonnet  to  Philenia,     -  -     136 

Country  Girl  to  Menander,      »  *        .        -         137 

Stanzas  to  the  Country  Girl,       -  «        s?        -    138 


CONTENTS.  XI 

Country  Girl  to  Menander,      -  139 

Sonnet  to  the  Country  Girl,  -     1 40* 

Sonnet  to  Anna  Louisa,  -----  141 

Stanzas  to  Anna,  ...     ibid. 

Stanzas  to  Truth,    -  .142 

Stanzas  to  Truth  -     143 

Stanzas  on  a  Bamboo  Fan,       -  146 

Prize  Prologue,  at  the  opening  of  the  Boston  Theatre,       151 
The  Invention  of  Letters,  A.  M.  Poem,  -         -     1 63 

The  Ruling  Passion,  O.  B.  K.  Poem,  177 

Notes  to  Ruling  Passion,     -  -  -     192 

Dedicatory  Address,   at  the   re-opening  of  the  Boston 

Theatre,      -  199 

Address,  delivered  by  Master  John  H.  Payne,  as  Young 

Norval,  *  -  -  206 

Epilogue  to  the  Soldier's  Daughter,  209 

Valedictory  Address,  spoken  by  Miss  Fox,  at  her  benefit,  212 
Epilogue  to  the  Clergyman's  Daughter,       -  -     214 

Epilogue  to  the  Poor  Lodger,  -  222 

Monody  on  the  Death  of  Lieut.  Gen.  Sir  John  Moore,        229 
to  Monody,       -        -        -        -        *        -        -    237 


PART  IIT. 

ODES  AND  SONGS. 

Rise  Columbia,        -                  -  243 

Adams  and  Liberty,    *  -     245 
"  Bleak  lowered  the  morn  ;  the  howling  snow-drift  blew,"  248 

To  Arms,  Columbia,       -  -         253 

Jlule  New-England,    -  -     252 

The  Street  was  a  Ruin,  -                            -  254 

Spirit  of  the  Vital  Flame,    -  -     256 

"  When  first  the  Mitre's  wrath  to  shun,"  258 

The  Yeomen  of  Hampshire,        -  -.                  -     261 

*'  Sweet  Minstrel,  who  to  mortal  ears,"     -  26S 

"  Sainted  Shades !  who  dared  to  brave,"  -                  -     265 

The  Green  Mountain  Farmer,          -        -  -         -        267 


Xll  CONTENTS. 

"  Shall  man,  stern  man,  'gainst  Heaven's  behest,"  -     270 

"  Wide  o'er  the  wilderness  of  waves,"      -  272 

«  Hail !  Hail,  ye  patriot  spirits,"  -     274 

"  Let  patriot  pride  our  patriot  triumph  wake,"  277 
"  On  the  tent-plains  of  Shinah,  Truth's  mystical  clime,"     280 

«  Blest  be  the  sacred  fire,"  -     283 

«  The  Steeds  of  Apollo,  in  coursing  the  day,"  -  286 

Spain,  Commerce,  and  Freedom,  -     288 
Elegiac  Sonnet,  to  the  Memory  of  M.  M.  Hays,  Esq.          292 

Address,  for  the  Carriers  of  the  Boston  Gazette,  -         293 

Lines  to  Miss  F.                            -  -     296 

Reply  to  the  above,        -  ibid. 


PART  IV. 

PROSE  WRITINGS. 

Oration,  before  the  Young  Men  of  Boston,  -  -    301 

Eulogy  on  the  Life  of  General  George  Washington,  329 
Communication  on  the  Boston  Female  Asylum,  -  -  345 
Critique  on  the  Drama  of  "  Adrian  and  Orilla,"  353 

Critique  on  the  Comedy  of  "  Rule  a  Wife  and  have  a 

Wife,"  -  -     357 

Critique  on  the  Play  of  "  Henry  IV."       -  366 

Critique  on  the  Tragedy  of  "  Venice  Preserved,"  -  370 
Critique  on  the  Tragedy  of  "  Othello,"  -  377,  384 

Critique  on  the  Drama  of  "  Pizarro,"  390,  392 

Critique  on  Mr.  Bernard's  performance,  and  on  the  Tra- 
gedy of  "  George  Barnwell,"        -  395 
Critique  on  the  Comedy  of  "  John  Bull,"     -                  -     400 
Brief  Sketch  of  Spain,     -                           ...         409 


Notes  to  the  College  Exercises,  -  -    425 

Notes  to  the  Miscellaneous  Poems,  ...         445 


SKETCHES 


OF  THE 


LIFE,  CHARACTER  AND  WRITINGS 


OF  THE  LATE 


ROBERT  TREAT  PAINE,  JUN.  ESQ. 


BY  CHARLES  PRENTISS. 


"  Nothing  extenuate,  nor  set  down  aught  in  malice.3 


BIOGRAPHY. 


IT  is  not  the  design  of  the  writer  of  this  memoir^ 
nor  the  wish  of  the  publisher  of  this  volume,  to 
present  an  ample  biography  of  the  late  ROBERT 
TREAT  PAINE,  JUN.  ESQ.  or  an  elaborate  dis- 
cussion on  the  merits  of  his  poetic  effusions.    This 
sketch  will  therefore  embrace  merely  a  short  ac* 
count  of  his  life  and  writings,  together  with  a  brief 
critical  notice  of  his  principal  poetic  productions* 
In  Europe,  scarcely  a  year  has  of  late  elapsed^ 
which  had  not  been  pregnant  with  rhyming  vol- 
umes, born  only  to  see  the  light  and  die  ;  many  of 
them  swelled  with  unimportant  biographical  infor- 
mation, or  a  prodigality  of  critical  disquisition. 
The  labors  of  the  poet,  of  his  biographer  and  critic, 
are  soon  forgotten :    hence,  however  barren  the 
first,  or  partial  or  inadequate  the  latter,  the  public 
sustain  little  injury  from  such  evanescent  perform- 
ances.    With  Mr.  Paine  and  the  offspring  of  his 
muse,  it  is  far  otherwise.     Although  some  of  his 
writings  are  but  the  moderate  efforts  of  boyhood, 
or  the  subsequent  effects  of  casual  and  careless 
exertion  ;  many  of  them  are  the  legitimate  and  in- 


XVI  BIOGRAPHY. 

disputable  heirs  of  immortality.  Were  it  probable 
that  this  volume  Would  find  readers  only  in  this 
vicinity,  where  Mr.  Paine's  manners,  habits,  and 
whole  tenor  of  life  are  known,  a  biographical  sketch 
would  be  a  superfluous  task  :  but,  confident  as  we 
are,  that  at  least,  his  more  labored  and  polished 
productions  will  be  long  and  generally  read  ;  it  is 
a  duty  to  gratify  that  curiosity,  that  anxiety,  which 
is  ever  felt  by  the  reader  of  taste,  to  know  some- 
thing more  of  an  author,  than  the  place  of  his  na- 
tivity, or  the  date  of  his  mortal  exit. 

The  dearest  relatives  of  an  author  being  yet  alive, 
and  his  friends  charitably  anxious  for  the  mainte- 
nance of  his  moral  as  well  as  poetical  reputation, 
to  paint  the  poet  as  he  was  is  at  once  a  very  deli- 
cate, difficult,  and  disagreeable  task.  Yet,  what- 
ever may  be  due  to  the  feelings  of  consanguinity 
or  the  tenderness  of  friendship,  the  commands  of 
justice  are  paramount. 

Should  the  glowing  and  exact  pencil  of  Stuart 
be  employed  in  pourtraying  the  features  of  an  un- 
celebrated maiden,  over  whose  head  more  than 
forty  annual  suns  may  have  rolled,  at  her  instiga- 
tion, and  to  gratify  her  vanity,  omit  many  a  wrin- 
kle or  supply  many  a  deficient  rose,  few  would 
feel  disposed  to  censure  the  painter.  But,  were 
he  employed  to  give  a  portrait  of  a  poet,  patriot, 
or  hero,  whose  reputation  was  familiar,  but  whose 
visage  was  unknown,  except  to  a  few,  flattery  would 


BIOGRAPHY. 

be  falsehood  and  omission  crime.  When  a  faith- 
ful likeness  is  expected  by  the  public,  the  pencil 
and  the  pen  owe  obedience  only  to  truth. 

THOMAS  PAINE,  whose  name  was  afterwards, 
by  an  act  of  the  legislature  in  1801,  changed  to 
ROBERT  TREAT  PAINE,  was  born  at  Taunton,  in 
the  county  of  Bristol,  December  9th,  1773.  He 
was  the  second  son  of  the  Hon.  ROBERT  TREAT 
PAINE,  an  eminent  lawyer,  well  known  as  one  of 
the  patriots  of  the  American  revolution ;  one  of  the 
Delegates  in  Congress  from  Massachusetts,  his 
native  state,  who  signed  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence ;  for  many  years  the  Attorney  General, 
and  afterwards  one  of  the  Judges  of  the  Supreme 
Judicial  Court  for  this  Commonwealth.  His  moth- 
er's maiden  name  was  COBB,  a  sister  of  the  soldier 
and  patriot,  General  COBB.  Eight  adult  children 
were  the  fruit  of  this  union ;  four  sons  and  four 
daughters.  The  three  eldest  sons,  Robert  Treat, 
Thomas,  and  Charles,  were  educated  for  the  bar. 
Henry  was  educated  in  a  compting  room.  Robert, 
in  1798,  unmarried,  fell  a  victim  to  the  yellow  fever, 
after  which  Thomas  assumed  his  Christian  name. 
The  younger  brothers  were  both  married,  and 
Charles  died  of  a  consumption  early  in  1810.  The 
parents  are  now  living. 

Our  poet  was  about  seven  years  of  age  when  his 
father  removed  his  familv  to  Boston, 


XV111  BIOGRAPHY. 

I  have  neither  time  nor  opportunity  to  enquire, 
whether  in  his  infantile  or  more  juvenile  years,  he 
exhibited  any  of  those  traits  of  genius  or  eccen- 
tricity, which  the  world  is  generally  so  desirous 
of  finding,  or  at  least  of  believing  must  have  char- 
acterized infancy,  because  displayed  in  riper  years. 
He  once  informed  the  writer  that  he  was  uncon- 
scious of  the  possession  of  more  than  ordinary  tal- 
ents, till  some  of  his  classmates  flattered  him  with 
a  belief  of  their  existence,  by  praising  some  of  his 
earliest  poetical  efforts.  If  a  statesman,  hero  or 
poet,  mathematician,  painter  or  musician,  acquires 
celebrity,  the  public  are  delighted  with  anecdotes 
of  precocious  traits  of  sentiment  or  action,  indica- 
tive of  future  excellence ;  of  which  no  notice  was 
taken  at  the  time ;  or  which  had  never  been  con- 
sidered uncommon,  without  a  connexion  with  sub- 
sequent eminence. 

He  was  placed  under  the  care  of  master  Carter, 
who  for  many  years  kept  one  of  the  public  schools, 
for  instruction  in  reading,  writing,  arithmetic,  &e. 
Here  he  made  so  little  proficiency  that  he  was  re- 
luctantly received  at  the  Latin  school,  long  kept 
by  master  Hunt ;  he  however  soon  acquired  the 
first  standing  in  his  class,  which  he  maintained 
until  he  was  offered  for  the  Freshman  class  at 
Cambridge  ;  and  in  July,  1788,  he  was  examined 
as  such,  at  that  university,  and  matriculated. 


BIOGRAPHY.  XIX 

It  is  remarkable  that  the  last  mentioned  gentle- 
man, who  prepared  him  for  college,  is  not  possessed 
of  a  single  anecdote  which  would  distinguish  him 
from  "  the  million. "  But  of  his  moral  qualities, 
during  this  period,  his  school  mates  bear  honorable 
testimony.  When  he  had  accomplished  his  own 
task,  which  he  always  did  with  great  facility,  he 
was  ever  ready  to  lend  his  aid  to  those  who  studied 
more  tardily,  or  who  had  consumed  their  time  in 
play.  This  benefaction  was,  in  some  degree,  his 
pastime ;  as  he  never  engaged  in  the  gymnastic 
sports  of  the  school.  His  temper  was  placid  and 
his  disposition  gay,  and  apparently  feeling  no  supe- 
riority, he  was  infected  with  no  other  ambition, 
than  that  of  acquitting  himself  to  the  satisfaction 
of  his  instructor. 

During  the  first  two  years  of  his  collegiate  life, 
he  was  generally  attentive  to  the  studies  assigned, 
excelling  particularly  in  the  Latin  and  Greek  lan- 
guages, in  English  grammar  and  rhetoric  :  but  to 
stated  recitations  he  was  not  unfrequently  inatten- 
tive 5  devoting  his  time,  not  to  idleness  nor  dis- 
sipation, but  to  natural  philosophy  and  elegant 
literature.  To  the  Greek  language  he  was  very 
attentive,  insomuch  that  the  government  of  college 
assigned  to  him  a  Greek  oration  at  one  of  the  exhi- 
bitions of  his  class.  This  performance  is  gener- 
ally nothing  more  than  a  recitation  from  some  of 
the  orations  of  Demosthenes  or  Isocrates,  or  a  speech 


XX  BIOGRAPHY. 

from  Plutarch  or  Xenophon ;  but  Paine  chose  to 
write  his  own  in  Greek,  without  first  preparing  in 
English  ;  which  he  did  much  to  the  satisfaction  of 
Doctor  Willard,  at  that  time  President,  who  was 
considered  a  very  accurate  Greek  scholar.  The 
manuscript  is  now  in  existence. 

One  of  his  classmates,  J.Allen,  whether  from  mere 
wantonness,  or  to  gratify  some  particular  resent- 
ment, we  know  not,  wrote  several  satirical  verses, 
abusive  of  Paine,  inscribed  on  the  college  wall. 
Discovered  by  Paine,  he  was  resolved  on  replica- 
tion ;  but,  having  never  written  a  line  of  poetry, 
he  was  for  some  time  undetermined  on  the  mode. 
Some  of  his  class  instigated  him  to  attempt  a  poet- 
ical retort,  by  depreciating  his  talents,  and  doubt- 
ing his  ability  to  produce  a  rhyming  reply.  Allen 
was  a  young  man  of  a  most  vigorous  mind,  and  had 
long,  and  not  unsuccessfully,  paid  his  respects  to 
the  muses.  He  at  that  time  reigned  laureat  of  the 
class.  Paine,  however,  fearlessly  attacked  him  in 
return. 

This  anecdote  the  writer  had  from  Mr.  Paine 
the  last  summer,  on  asking  him  the  occasion  of  his 
first  attempt  to  rhyme.  He  could  not  recollect  the 
verses,  but  believed  there  was  little  wit  on  either 
side,  though  he  was  not  then  dissatisfied  with  his 
first  metrical  effort.  «  Were  it  not  for  this  circum- 
stance," said  he,  «  probably,  I  should  never  have 
undertaken  a  couplet."  How  trivial  an  incident 


BIOGRAPHY.  XXI 

may  so  affect  the  helm,  as  to  give  a  new  direction 
to  the  whole  voyage  of  life.  The  falling  of  a  pin 
may  decide  the  fate  of  an  empire. 

Gratified  in  his  first  excursion  on  Parnassian 
heights,  he  persevered  in  his  intimacy  with  the 
nine,  till  friendship  became  love ;  and  he  found  it 
ever  after  impracticable  to  divorce  his  affections. 
Thus  seduced,  he  became  ambitious  of  showing 
the  world  how  much  he  was  their  favorite.  He 
saw  his  own  rhymes  in  print,  and  his  blessed  ruin 
was  inevitable.  Scarcely  less  pleasure  has  a  young 
author,  at  the  sight  of  his  first  printed  couplets, 
than  a  young  lover  at  the  moment  of  contract  for 
the  approaching  hymeneal  knot. 

It  is  the  practice  at  Cambridge  for  the  professor 
of  Rhetoric  and  the  English  language,  commencing 
in  the  first  or  second  quarter  of  the  student's  soph- 
omore year,  to  give  the  class  a  text ;  generally 
some  brief  moral  quotation  from  some  of  the  an- 
cient or  modern  poets,  from  which  the  students 
write  a  short  essay,  usually  denominated  a  theme* 
These  are  examined  and  corrected  by  the  Profes- 
sor, and  a  straight  line  is  drawn  by  him  on  the 
back  of  the  theme,  under  the  name  of  the  writer. 
Under  the  names  of  those,  whose  themes  are  of 
more  than  ordinary  correctness  or  elegance,  the 
Professor  draws  two  lines.  This  distinction,  though 
it  occasions  jealousies  and  complaints  of  partiality 
among  the  students,  greatly  excites  their  ambition. 


XX11  BIOGRAPHY. 

Many,  if  not  the  greater  part  of  Pained  themes, 
were  written  in  verse ;  and  his  vanity  was  gratified, 
and  his  emulation  roused  by  the  honor  of  constant 
double  marks. 

Few,  if  any  of  these  exercises,  however,  did 
Paine  think  proper  to  publish.  And  there  are 
some,  which  it  is  presumed  he  never  would  have 
published,  or  certainly  not  without  further  correc- 
tion. Though  they  give  evidence,  and  contain 
examples  of  high  poetic  powers,  there  are  many 
feeble  lines,  which  he  would  have  omitted,  or 
amended  ;  and  many  inaccuracies,  which  he  would 
have  subsequently  rectified. 

Can  there  exist  a  son,  from  Adam  sprung, 

How  abject  e'er  from  native  dignity,  &c. — page  1 1. 

And  solemn  silence  bids  the  mind  revere. — p.  15. 

He  [nature]  blushed,  he  sighed,  and  asked  her  hand. 
And,  unsufijiressed)  returned  the  sigh. — p.  20. 

Page  21 .  Jlmours  is  accented  on  the  first  syllable. 
The  whole  poem,  however,  on  the  text, 

"  Know  then  thyself;  presume  not  God  to  scan  j 
The  proper  study  of  mankind  is  man ;" 

exemplifies  the  authors  creative  powers. 

Where  crags  me-nace — p.  32. 

Till  then  thy  name  shall  fiervagrate  the  earth, — p.  35. 

Page  45,  as  in  many  other  places,  the  transi- 
tion is  immediate  from  the  familiar  to  the  grave 
style : 


BIOGRAPHY.  XX111 

When  with  your  lyre  you  swell  melodious  songs, 
E'en  Orpheus  owns  to  thee  the  wreath  belongs, 

Shall  court  thy  smile,  and  in  your  praise  combine.— p.  46. 

Created  life  "was  formed— - p.  49. 

Splendid  greens, — p.  60. 

Sweet  are  the  hours  of  life's  expanding  years^ — p.  62. 

Swords  turned  the  scale,  and  nods  edicted  law; — p.  72. 

Pervagrate  and  edicted,,  with  several  other 
words,  were  coined  in  Mr.  Paine's  own  mint. 
Whether  the  republic  of  letters  will  recognize  the 
validity  of  these  acts  of  poetic  sovereignty,  time 
must  determine. 

Here  muscful  thought  and  contemplation  dwell,— p.  82. 

Such  tautology  is,  however,  very  rare  with  Mr. 
Paine.  Yet  this  is  not  more  censurable  than  Pope's 
"pensive  contemplation/'  which  perhaps  Paine 
had  in  view. 

No  more,  amid  the  sylvan  dance, 

Smiles  round  the  soul-subduing  glance  ! — p.  1 10. 

We  have  here  noticed  a  few  inaccuracies.  The 
list  might  be  greatly  augmented ;  and  still  it  is 
wonderful  there  are  so  few.  In  the  exactness  of 
his  rhymes,  he  was  not  then,  very  scrupulous.  Warm 
and  born  are  grating  to  the  ear :  but  the  eye  rather 
than  the  ear  is  displeased  with  lorn  and  dawn. 

There  is  no  uncommon  merit  in  his  translations. 
We  are  surprised  that  he  should  have  attempted 
Sapho's  *AINETAI  MOI  'KHN02,  after  Phillips, 


XXIV  BIOGRAPHY. 

It  is  not  designed  to  notice  the  many  beauties 
and  evidences  of  ripening  excellence,  which  are 
scattered  over  his  college  exercises  :  we  must, 
however,  select  and  refer  to  a  few  examples. 

No  sooner  morn  had  cheered  the  skies  with  light, 

And  modest  fields  blushed  from  the  embrace  of  nightf— -p.  42. 

The  first  fourteen  lines  of  the  Valedictory  (p.  60.) 
are  exquisitely  beautiful. 

How  comprehensive  the  second  line  of  his 
Address  to  Freedom  : 

Heaven-born  goddess,  hail ! 

Friend  of  the  fien,  the  sickle,  and  the  sail ! — p.  70. 

His  imitations  were  not  very  frequent.  The 
following  line, 

No  fear  of  death  their  dauntless  souls  deplore ; — p.  52. 
is  but  a  slight  variation  from  one  in  Young's  Para- 
phrase of  Job,  describing  the  war-horse  : 
No  sense  of  fear  his  dauntless  soul  allays. 

On  the  whole,  although  his  earlier  academic 
productions  would  not  have  ensured  immortality, 
they  contain  some  sublimity  and  much  vigor  and 
beauty,  as  well  as  a  maturity  and  copiousness  of 
style,  uncommon  with  juvenility.  They  are  far 
from  being  models  of  perfection ;  but,  to  quote 
from  his  Refinement  of  Manners, 

Vain  is  the  hope,  in  life's  first  dawn,  to  find 

Those  nerves  of  thought,  that  grace  the  ripened  mind. 

At  the  usual  quarterly  exhibition,  in  the  autumn 
of  1791,  the  government  of  college  assigned  tq 


BIOGRAPHY.  XXV 

Paine  an  English  poem.  There  is  an  unaccount- 
able indolence,  or  love  of  delay  with  respect  to 
original  composition,  common  to  many,  if  not  to 
most  of  those,  who  are  capable  of  the  finest  execu- 
tion. He  neglected  his  task  day  after  day,  till  the 
morning  of  the  exhibition,  on  which,  he  wrote  and 
committed  to  memory  about  a  third  part  of  the 
whole. 

Although  there  was  much  merit  in  this  poem, 
he  did  not,  by  it,  acquire  much  reputation  ;  merely 
on  account  of  the  plaintive  monotony  of  his  languid 
delivery  :  so  disposed  is  a  vast  majority,  even  of 
an  academic  audience,  to  put  their  trust  in  the  into- 
nations of  emphasis  and  the  gracefulness  of  gesture. 
Mr.  Paine,  however,  afterwards  improved  in  public 
speaking;  and  his  elocution  became  almost  perfect. 

The  delivery  of  a  poem  at  an  exhibition,  in  the 
senior  year,  generally  ensures  a  similar  appoint- 
ment at  the  ensuing  commencement.  Feeling  se- 
cure in  this  respect,  Paine  became  negligent  with 
regard  to  attendance  on  public  prayers  and  stated 
recitations ;  not  wasting  his  time,  but  applying 
to  such  studies  and  authors  as  were  more  con- 
genial to  his  taste,  than  some  to  which  it  was  his 
duty,  as  a  student,  to  have  attended.  During  the 
ensuing  quarter,  some  disturbance  having  taken 
place  between  the  students  of  the  senior  class  and 
one  or  more  of  the  tutors,  Paine  used  some  severe 
and  abusive  language,  respecting  certain  arrange- 


XXVl  BIOGRAPHY. 

ments  for  the  evening  commons ;  and  was  sum- 
moned to  appear  before  the  government  of  the  uni- 
versity. He  defended  himself  before  them  with 
so  much  wit  and  impudence,  that  his  offence  \vas 
rather  increased  than  mitigated.  He  was  accord- 
ingly sentenced  to  a  suspension*  of  four  months, 
for  neglect  of  his  studies  during  that  quarter  ;  and 
for  insulting  the  authority  of  college  ;  aggravated, 
as  his  sentence  runs,  by  his  indecent  and  impudent 
attempts,  when  before  the  government,  to  justify 
his  misbehavior. 

The  then  President  of  the  college,  Dr.  Willard, 
was  well  known  to  be  a  strenuous  supporter  of 
authority,  and  rigidly  attached  to  the  maintenance 
of  his  own  dignity  ;  "and  opposed"  (as  Mr.  Paine 
used  to  say)  "  to  the  least  perpetration  of  wit  in  his 
presence."  The  slightest  disrespect  to  his  office 
was  considered  as  a  crime  :  hence,  with  all  his 
learning  and  virtues,  he  W7as  ill  calculated  to 
restrain  by  persuasion,  or  to  gain  the  respect  and 
affection  of  the  students,  by  a  deportment,  at  once 
dignified  without  haughtiness,  and  conciliating 
without  familiarity.  Had  he  possessed  the  bland 

*  By  some  strange  transposition  of  terms,  that  is  called 
suspension,  which  is  merely  a  rustication,  a  dismissal  to  the 
country  for  some  months,  when  the  student  is  restored  to  his 
class :  and  that  is  called  rustication^  which  suspends  him  a 
year,  allowing  him  to  go  where  he  pleases,  and  degrades  him 
to  the  class  below  that  in  which  he  had  stood.  We  wish  to 
see  the  cxjndsion  of  this  solecism  from  our  university. 


EIOGRAPHY.  XXvil 

manners  and  persuasive  authority  of  the  scholar 
and  gentleman,  who  now  presides  with  such  dig- 
nity and  usefulness  over  that  seminary,  it  is  possi- 
ble Paine  had  not  been  suspended. 

Perhaps,  however,  his  suspension  was  of  no  real 
disadvantage.  He  was  placed  under  the  care  of 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Sanger,  of  Bridgewater,  where  he 
pursued  his  studies  with  assiduity,  and  was  after- 
wards regularly  reinstated  in  his  class. 

The  31st  of  every  June,  till  of  late  years,  has 
been  the  day,  on  which  the  members  of  the  senior 
class  closed  their  collegiate  studies,  and  retired, 
to  make  preparations  for  the  ensuing  commence- 
ment. On  this  day  it  was  usual  for  one  member 
to  deliver  an  oration,  and  another  a  poem :  such 
members  being  appointed  by  their  classmates.  The 
Valedictory  Poem  of  Mr.  Paine,  a  tender,  correct 
and  beautiful  effusion  of  feeling  and  taste,  was  re- 
ceived by  the  audience  with  applause  and  tears. 
The  latter  part  of  it,  especially,  was  heard  with 
silent  sorrow  and  admiration. 

"  The  fatal  sheers  the  slender  thread  divide, 
And  sculptured  urns  the  mouldering  relicks  hide  ; 
Far  deeper  wounds  our  bleeding  breasts  display, 
And  Fate's  most  deadly  weapon  is — to-day. 
To-day  we  part ;  ye  throbs  of  anguish,  rise, 
Flow,  all  ye  tears,  and  heave,  ye  rending  sighs  ! 
Come  lend  to  Friendship's  stilled  voice  relief, 
And  melt  the  lonely  hermitage  of  grief. 
Sighs,  though  in  vain,  may  tell  the  world  we  feel, 
And  tears  may  soothe  the  wound,  they  cannot  heal. 


XXV111  BIOGRAPHY. 

To-day  we  launch  from  this  delightful  shore, 

And  Mirth  shall  cheer,  and  Friendship  charm  no  more ; 

We  spread  the  sail  o'er  life's  tumultuous  tide  ; 

Ambition's  helm,  let  prudent  Reason  guide  j 

Let  grey  Experience,  with  her  useful  chart, 

Direct  the  wishes  of  the  youthful  heart. 

Where'er  kind  heaven  shall  bend  our  wide  career, 

Still  let  us  fan  the  flame,  we've  kindled  here ; 

Still  let  our  bosoms  burn  with  equal  zeal, 

And  teach  old  age  the  warmth  of  youth  to  feel. 

But  ere  the  faithful  moment  bids  us  part, 

Rends  every  nerve,  and  racks  the  throbbing  heart, 

Let  us,  while  here  our  fondest  prayer  ascends, 

Swear  on  this  altar,  <  that  we  will  be  friends  1' 

But,  ah  !  behold  the  fatal  moments  fly ; 

Time  cuts  the  knot,  he  never  could  untie. 

Adieu  !  ye  scenes,  where  noblest  pleasures  dwell  ^ 

Ye  happy  seats,  ye  sacred  walls,  farewell ! 

Adieu  !  ye  guides,  and  thou  enlightened  sire  ; 

A  long  farewell  resounds  our  plaintive  lyre  ; 

Adieu  1  ye  youths,  that  press  our  tardy  heel ; 

Long  may  it  be,  ere  you  such  griefs  shall  feel ! 

Wild  horrors  swim  around  my  startling  view ; 

Fate  prompts  my  tongue,  and,  oh !  my  friends,  adieu." 

On  the  15th  of  July,  1792,  the  day  on  which  he 
received  his  degree  of  Bachelor  of  Arts,  he  deliv- 
ered, according  to  the  assignment  of  the  govern- 
ment, an  English  poem.  This  was  at  a  time  when 
all  eyes  Were  directed  to  France,  and  almost  every 
American  was  ardent  in  his  wishes  for  the  success 
of  the  French  revolution.  He  chose  for  his  theme 
"  The  Nature  and  Progress  of  Liberty :"  a  subject 
than  which,  no  one  could  have  been  more  popular 
and  judicious.  The  general  delusion  of  the  time. 


BIOGRAPHY.  XXIX 

when  the  infidel,  Paine,  was  considered  the  great 
apostle  of  liberty,  and  Edmund  Burke,  the  cham- 
pion of  despotism,  must  excuse  certain  sentiments, 
which  no  one  would  sooner  condemn  at  this  time, 
than  the  author,  if  alive. 

Long  may  the  laurel  to  the  ermine  yield, 
The  stately  palace  to  the  fertile  field ; 
The  fame  of  Burke,  in  dark  oblivion-  rust, 
His  pen  a  meteor — and  his  page  the  dust. 

Tt  is  not  surprising  that  a  young  man,  like  Paine, 
should  have  partaken  of  the  general  madness  of 
the  day,  which,  with  very  few  exceptions,  then 
swayed  the  feelings  of  age,  of  wisdom,  and  of 
experience,  Mr.  Paine,  some  years  after,  spoke 
with  regret  of  his  ^  stripling  attempt  to  smite  the 
pyramidical  fame  of  Burke.'7 

He  was  graduated  with  the  esteem  of  the  govern- 
ment and  the  regard  of  his  cotemporaries.  He 
was  as  much  distinguished  for  the  opening  virtues 
of  his  heart  5  as  for  the  vivacity  of  his  wit ;  the 
vigor  of  his  imagination ;  and  the  variety  of  his 
knowledge.  A  liberality  of  sentiment  and  a  con- 
tempt of  selfishness  are  usual  concomitants ;  and 
in  him,  were  striking  characteristics.  Urbanity 
of  manners  and  a  delicacy  of  feeling  imparted  a 
charm  to  his  benignant  temper  and  social  dispo- 
sition. 

Mr.  Paine,  soon  after  leaving  college,  determined 
on  the  pursuit  of  the  mercantile  profession  5  and 


XXX  BIOGRAPHY. 

became  a  clerk  to  Mr.  James  Tisdale,  a  merchant 
iii  this  town  of  very  extensive  business.  To  a  man 
of  our  poet's  genius  and  disposition,  we  should  sup- 
pose it  impossible  that  this  should  not  have  been 
irksome.  He  had  enjoyed  the  friendship  of  the 
Pierian  sisters,  till  the  connexion  became  indis- 
soluble ;  "  and  could  not  leave  them,  nor  return 
from  following  after  them."  Hence,  he  not  only 
continued* an  occasional  correspondent  of  the  Mas- 
sachusetts Magazine,  in  which  he  had  written 
many  fine  pieces,  under  the  signatures  of  J£gon 
and  Celadon,  and  in  which  he  now  assumed  the 
signature  of  Menander  ;  but  even  made  entries  in 
his  day  book  in  poetry ;  and  once,  made  out  a 
charter-party  in  the  same  style. 

Nor  was  he  at  all  times  attentive  to  the  desk 
and  the  counter.  Having  been  one  day  sent  to 
the  bank,  with  a  check  for  five  hundred  dollars, 
returning  to  the  store,  he  was  met  by  several  liter- 
ary acquaintances,  he  jumped  into  a  hackney  coach 
with  them,  went  to  Cambridge,  and  spent  a  week, 
in  the  enjoyment  of  "  the  feast  of  reason  and  the 
flow  of  soul."  He,  however,  did  not  embezzle  the 
money  ;  but,  on  his  return,  carried  it  untouched  to 
the  store. 

In  the  correspondence,  about  this  time,  between 
Philenia  and  our  poet,  there  are  certainly  some  of 
the  finest  strains  of  the  lyre,  and  some  of  the  most 
delicate  touches  of  compliment.  On  each  side  there 


BIOGRAPHY. 

is  some  proximity  to  adulation.  Philenia  had, 
however,  the  most  exalted  opinion  of  Pained  poetic 
powers  :  and  Paine  thought  he  could  not  say  too 
much  of  a  lady,  who  was  so  highly  celebrated  for 
her  manners,  beauty,  colloquial  talents,  and  literary 
attainments  ;  and  who  had  ascended  to  such  aa 
altitude  on  Parnassus,  as  to  leave  all  American 
female  competitors  at  a  humble  distance. 

During  the  winter  of  1792-3,  Paine  frequently 
visited  the  theatre,  and  acquired  a  predilection 
for  theatric  amusements,  which  closely  adhered  to 
him  through  life.  The  law  of  this  state  against 
theatrical  exhibitions,  had  never*  been  repealed ; 
but  a  small  company  of  actors  had  contrived  to  evade 
it :  a  temporary  theatre  was  erected  in  Board  Alley, 

"  And  plays  their  heathen  names  forsook, 
And  those  of  4  Moral  Lectures'  took." 

The  law  was  abrogated  ;  and  in  the  summer 
and  autumn  of  1793,  a  large  and  elegant  brick  the- 
atre was  erected  in  Federal  Street. 

Previously  to  the  opening  of  the  theatre,  the  pro- 
prietors offered  the  reward  of  a  gold  medal  for  the 
best  prologue,  that  should  be  presented  ;  appoint- 
ing several  literary  gentlemen  to  examine  such  as 
should  be  offered,  and  to  make  the  adjudication. 

Antecedently  to  the  day  assigned  for  the  critical 
scrutiny,  not  less  than  twenty  were  presented. 
They  were  perused  by  the  censors  ;  but  no  disa- 
greement of  sentiment  arosa  on  the  question,  to 


tXXli  BIOGRAPHY. 

whom  the  medal  should  be  awarded.  Among  the 
competitors,  not  only  those  who  fancied  themselves 
poets,  and  were  inhabitants  of  this  state,  but  several 
poetical  adventurers  from  other  states,  contested 
*he  prize. 

The  following  vote  passed  on  the  subject. 


a  meeting  of  the  Proprietors  of  the  Boston 
Theatre,  December  2d.  1793. 

"  Voted,  That  the  Trustees  be  a  committee,  in 
behalf  of  the  Proprietors,  to  thank  Mr.  Thomas 
Paine  for  his  appropriate  and  excellent  Prologue, 
written  for  the  opening  of  the  theatre,  and  to  present 
kim  with  the  Prize  Medal  adjudged  for  the  same. 
"In  behalf  of  the  TRUSTEES, 

«  PEREZ  MORTON,  Chairman." 

The  medal  was  prepared  and  presented  the  ensu- 
ing spring,  accompanied  with  the  following  letter. 

"Boston,  March  24th.  1794. 
"  gIRj  —  In  the  name  of  the  Trustees  and  Propri- 
etors of  the  Boston  Theatre,  I  have  the  pleasure 
to  present  to  you  the  medal,  adjudged  to  your  Pro- 
logue, at  the  opening  of  the  theatre,  as  the  reward 
ef  merit  and  genius. 

66  1  am,  Sir,  your  most  obedient 
"  humble  servant, 

"PEREZ  MORTON." 


BIOGRAPHY. 

The  medal  is  a  circle  of  about  two  inches  diam- 
eter, widely  and  neatly  embroidered  around  the 
periphery,  simply  containing  on  one  side  the  words> 

For 

THE  PROLOGUE 

at  opening  of 
the  Boston 

THEATRE 

this 

and  on  the  other  5 

PRIZE 

is  adjudged 

to 
THOMAS  PAINE, 

by  the 
CENSORS. 

This  Prologue,  as  first  printed,  contained  some 
bombast,  and  several  inaccuracies  ;  yet  a  greater 
volume  of  poetic  mind  has  seldom,  if  ever,  been 
embodied  in  the  same  compass.  In  conceiving 
greatly,  Mr.  Paine  sometimes  conceived  extrava- 
gantly, or  obscurely.  For  instance,  as  the  Pro- 
logue originally  stood ; 

But,  lo  !  where,  rising  in  majestick  flight, 
The  Roman  eagle  sails  the  expanse  of  light ! 
His  wings,  like  Heaven's  vast  canopy,  unfurled, 
Spread  their  broad  plumage  o'er  the  subject  world* 
Behold !  he  soars,  where  golden  Phoebus  rolls, 
And,  perching  on  his  car,  o'erlooks  the  poles  ! 
Far,  as  revolves  the  chariot's  radiant  way, 
He  wafts  his  empire  on  the  tide  of  day  ; 
from  where,  it  rolls  on  yon  bright  sea  of  suns  ;. 
To  where  in  Light's  remotest  ebb,  it  runs. 


XXXIV  BIOGRAPHY. 

The  writer  had  occasion  to  analyze  this  passage, 
in  a  familiar  manner,  in  his  presence.  He  agreed 
that  it  was  indefensible,  and  has  since  amended 
it ;  but  it  is  still  extravagant,  although  supported 
by  the  authority  of  an  Augustan  poet. 

Extravagant  and  oib'scure  i^he  also  in  the  a In- 
vention of  JLetters." 

Could  Faustus  live,  by  gloomy  Grave  resigned ; 
With  power  extensive,  as  sublime  his  mind, 
Thy  glorious  life  a  volume  should  compose, 
As  Alps  immortal,  spotless  as  its  snows. 

Had  he  here  closed,  all  would  have  been  well : 
but  to  make  the  volume  complete, 

The  stars  should  be  its  tyfies — its  fir  ess  the  age  ; 
The  earth  its  binding — and  the  sky  its  page. 

The  writer  asked  how  he  would  paint  Faustus 
picking  up  the  stars  for  types,  time  his  press,  the 
sky  his  paper,  and  afterwards,  this  volume  of  the 
sky  bound  with  the  earth. — "Poh,"  said  he,  "you 
know  obscurity  is  part  of  the  sublime  :  it  went 
down  well ;  it  took — marvellously. " 

A  more  perfect  or  sublime  allegory  is  not  recol- 
lected, than  the  following,  in  the  "Prize  Prologue," 
portraying  the  ages  of  darkness,  which  succeeded 
the  Roman  empire : 

Thus  set  the  sun  of  intellectual  light, 
And  wrapped  in  clouds,  lowered  on  the  Gothick  night. 
Dark  gloomed  the  storm— the  rushing  torrent  poured, 
And  wide  the  deep  Cimmerian  deluge  roared ; 


,  BIOGRAPHY.  XXXV 

E'en  Learning's  loftiest  hills  were  covered  o'er, 
And  seas  of  dulness  rolled,  without  a  shore. 
Yet,  ere  the  surge  Parnassus'  top  o'erflowed, 
The  banished  Muses  fled  their  blost  abode. 
Frail  was  their  ark,  the  heavenly ppedTseas  to  brave, 
The  wind  their  compass,  and  their  helm  the  wave  ; 
No  port  to  cheer  them,  andViq^ar  to  guide. 
From  clime  to  clifiijH&eyAroved  the  billowy  tide  ; 
At  length,  by  stoj«pRr?empests  wafted  o'er, 
They  found  an  Ararat  on  Albion's  shore. 

He  once  said  that  he  had  written  several  addi- 
tional lines,  making  Apollo  swear  by  Shakespeare, 
as  the  rainbow,  that  there  should  be  no  second 
deluge  of  dramatic  dulness :  but,  fearing  he  should, 
like  Dr.  Young,  run  down  the  allegory,  he  forbore 
their  retention. 

This  Prologue,  since  its  first  publication,  has 
been  much  amended,  and  has  received  copious  ad- 
ditions ;  and  it  was  designed  to  have  inserted  a 
sketch  of  the  most  eminent  dramatists. 

A  considerable  company  of  Comedians  arrived 
from  England,  and  the  theatre  was  opened  with 
very  flattering  success. 

Among  the  trans-Atlantic  performers,  were  Mr. 
Baker  and  wife,  and  an  only  daughter,  Miss  ELIZA 
BAKER,  then  aged  about  sixteen;  young,  hand- 
some, amiable,  and  intelligent  :  she  was  not 
viewed  with  indifference  by  Mr.  Paine ;  and  the 
stage  had  now  for  him  more  than  the  usual  attrac- 
tions. His  views  were,  however,  governed  by 
affection,  delicacy,  and  honour.  No  man  can  react 


XXXVl  BIOGRAPHY. 

the  following  nervous  lines  in  his  " Ruling  Pas- 
sion," written  about  this  time,  and  suppose  the} 
could  have  been  otherwise  : 

Poor  is  the  trophy  of  seductive  Art, 
Which,  but  to  triumph,  subjugates  the  heart; 
Or,  Tarquin-like,  with  more  foentious  flame, 
Stains  manly  truth  to  pluncler%male  fame. 
Life's  deepest  penance  never  can  atone, 
For  Hope  deluded,  or  for  Virtue  flown. 
Yet  such  there  are,  whose  smooth,  perfidious  smil$ 
Might  cheat  the  tempting  crocodile  in  guile. 
rfhorns  be  their  pillow ;  agony  their  sleep ; 
Nor  e'en  the  mercy  given,  to  "  wake  and  weep  !" 
May  screaming  night-fiends,  hot  in  recreant  gore, 
Rive  their  strained  fibres  to  their  heart's  rank  core, 
Till  startled  conscience  heap,  in  wild  dismay, 
Convulsive  curses  on  the  source  of  day  1 

During  the  theatrical  season  of  1793-4,  the 
Drama  was  the  principal  subject  of  Paine's  amuseT 
ment  and  attention,  and  he  spent  much  time  in 
writing  theatrical  criticisms.  His  mercantile  busi- 
ness became  irksome,  and  his  mercantile  ambition 
was  gone.  Hence,  in  the  ensuing  summer,  he  parted 
from  Mr.  Tisdale,  by  whom  he  had  ever  been 
treated  with  kindness,  and  of  whom  he  ever  spake 
with  respect  and  comtoendation. 

The  qualities,  which  had  secured  him  esteem,  at 
the  university,  were  daily  expanding,  and  his  rep- 
utation was  daily  increasing.  His  society  was 
eagerly  sought  in  the  most  polished  and  refined 
circles ;  he  administered  compliments  with  great 
address  ;  and  no  bean  was  ever  a  greater  favorite 


BIOGRAPHY.  XXXVH 

in  the  beau  monde  !  His  apparel  was  now  in  the 
extreme  of  fashion  ;  although  at  some  subsequent 
periods,  when  his  fortunes  were  less  propitious, 
he  indulged  in  a  truly  poetical  negligence  of  attire. 

Shortly  after  his  separation  from  the  counting 
house,  he  issued  proposals  for  publishing  a  semi- 
weekly  newspaper,  in  the  town  of  Boston.  His 
literary  reputation  was  high,  and  it  was  expected 
that  his  publication,  while  it  should  adhere  to  the 
gospel  politics  of  federalism,  would  teem  with  the 
effusions  of  fancy  and  of  taste.  The  subscription 
for  this  paper  was  liberal :  and  it  commenced  on 
the  20th  of  October,  1794,  under  the  title  of  «  The 
Federal  Orrery ;"  with  the  motto,  from  Virgil, 
"  Solemque  suum,  sua  sidera,  norunt." 

Public  expectation  was,  however,  not  a  little 
disappointed.  Love,  the  theatre,  natural  indolence, 
and  constant  temptations  to  pleasure  and  amuse- 
ment, stole  away  his  hours  ;  and  even  the  little 
attention  he  paid  to  his  paper,  seemed  a  drudgery. 

There  are,  however,  some  circumstances  con- 
nected with  the  publication  of  this  journal,  which 
deserve  notice.  In  the  fore  part  of  the  year  1795, 
he  inserted,  in  numbers,  in  the  Orrery,  "The  Jac- 
obiniad,"  a  political  poem.  This  poem  is  model- 
led upon  "  The  Rolliad,"  if  not  copied  from  it. 
Mr.  Paine  new-pointed  and  new-edged  much  of 
the  satire  ;  and  the  leaders  of  the  jacobin  faction 
were  sorely  galled  by  this  battery  of  ridicule.  This 
6 


XXXV1I1  BIOGRAPHY. 

drew  upon  him  the  summary  vengeance  of  a  mob, 
who  attacked  the  house  of  Major  Wallach,  with 
whom  he  lodged,  who  gallantly  defended  his  castle 
against  the  fury  of  the  unprincipled  banditti,  and 
compelled  them  to  retire.      But  another  circum- 
stance,  attached  to  this  publication,  had  a  more 
important  bearing  upon  our  author.     The  son  of  a 
gentleman,  at  whom  the  shafts  of  wit  had  been 
aimed,  called  upon  the  editor  for  personal  satisfac- 
tion, which  was  denied.     Mr.  Paine  apprehended 
an  assault,  and  prepared  himself,  with  an  unloaded 
pistol,  which  he  vainly  imagined  would  appal  his 
adversary.     The  parties  accidentally  met.     Upon 
the  approach  of  his  assailant,  whose  overpowering 
force  Mr.  Paine  could  not  resist,  he  presented  his 
pistol ;  but  the  gentleman  fearlessly  rushed  for- 
ward and  violently  assaulted  him.      Mr.  Paine, 
who  had  little  muscular  power,  and  whose  nerves 
had  never  been  previously  tested,  considered  this 
disasterous  interview  as  the  most  fatal  incident  of 
his  life.     So  capricious  is  popular  opinion,  when 
imcankered  by  party,  that  it  denounces,  for  not 
doing,  what  it  would  condemn,  if  done.     So  en- 
venomed is  party,  that  it  applauds  in  one,  what  it 
reprobates  in  another.     So  distorted  are  its  decis 
ions,  that  it  perpetually  illustrates  the  absurdity 
of  the  justice  and  farmer,  as  exemplified  in  the 
fable.      A  few  months  never  effected  a  greater 
change  in  the  acquaintance  and  friends  ;   in  the 


BIOGRAPHY. 


habits  and  prospects  of  an  individual,  who  had 
transgressed  no  law,  human  or  divine.  It  was  his 
misfortune,  that  in  this  exigence,  he  had  neither 
stubbornness  of  pride  to  resist  the  blow  ;  nor  elas- 
ticity of  character  to  recover  from  the  shock. 

In  February,  1795,  he  was  married  to  Miss 
Baker.  Whether  any  or  what  objections  were 
made  to  this  match  by  his  relations,  other  than  his 
father,  we  have  not  learned.  His  father,  under- 
standing what  were  his  intentions,  threatened  to 
renounce  him,  should  he  marry  the  lady.  The 
father's  threat  had  no  effect  on  the  son  :  at  least, 
however  unwilling  he  might  be  to  offend  a  parent, 
his  honor,  his  affection,  and  independence  of  mind, 
forbade  compliance  with  the  authority  of  what  he 
considered  mere  parental  pride* 

The  nuptial  hour  was  the  signal  of  expulsion 
from  his  father's  house  ;  but  the  hospitality  of 
Major  Wallach,  sheltered  him  and  Mrs.  Paine 
from  paternal  persecution.  Fifteen  months  they 
remained  inmates  in  this  gentleman'  s  family  ;  and 
although  Mr.  Paine  tendered  a  liberal  remunera- 
tion, Major  Wallaeh  never  would  receive  but  one 
hundred  dollars  !  Whenever  he  recurred  to  this 
beneficent  act,  the  tear  of  gratitude  could  not  be 
suppressed.  Mr.  Paine  once  said,  "  When  I  lost 
a  father,  I  gained  a  wife  and  found  a  friend." 

This  alienation  continued  until  the  decease  of 
the  eldest  brother,  in  1798.  This  distressing  oc- 


X  BIOGRAPHY. 

currence  produced  a  reconciliation,  which,  proba- 
bly from  too  little  confidence  on  one  hand,  and  an 
insufficient  degree  of  respect  on  (he  other;  was  of 
no  cordial  duration.  Whether  the  austerity  of  the 
father  occasioned  the  incorrigible  obliquities  of  the 
son ;  or  whether  the  anomalies  of  the  son  provoked 
the  untempered  severity  of  the  father  ;  or  whether 
they  alternately  operated  upon  each  other  as  cause 
and  effect,  the  writer  cannot  ascertain ;  nor  is  it 
his  duty  to  decide.  The  registry  of  events  is  the 
only  duty  of  the  biographer. 

In  July,  1795,  Mr.  Paine  took  his  second  degree, 
at  Cambridge.  The  government  assigned  to  him 
the  delivery  of  an  English  poem.  To  the  writer 
of  this  imperfect  sketch  of  his  life,  then  about  to 
take  his  first  degree,  had  also  been  assigned  an 
English  poem.  A  little  after  sunrise,  on  the  morn- 
ing of  Commencement,  we  M7ent  into  the  meeting- 
house and  rehearsed  our  poems  to  the  empty  pews. 
President  Willard  had  struck  out  ten  lines  of 
Paine's  poem  :  beginning, 

Envy,  that  fiend,  who  haunts  the  great  and  good, 
Not  Cato  shunned,  nor  Hercules  subdued. 
On  Fame's  wide  field,  where'er  a  covert  lies, 
The  rustling  serpent  to  the  thicket  flies ; 
The  foe  of  Glory,  Merit  is  her  prey  ; 
The  dunce  she  leaves,  to  plod  his  drowsy  way. 
Of  birth  amphibious,  and  of  Protean  skill, 
This  green-eyed  monster  changes  shape  at  will ; 
Like  snakes  of  smaller  breed,  she  sheds  her  skin  ; 
Strips  off  the  serpent,  and  turns — JACOBIN. 


BIOGRAPHY.  xll 

In  the  writer's  poem,  he  had  also  erased  a  pas- 
sage of  the  same  political  import.  Notwithstand- 
ing the  erasure,  we  agreed  to  pronounce  what  AVC 
had  written ;  an  impudent  and  unjustifiable  deter- 
mination. The  writer's  poem  belonged  to  the 
forenoon,  Mr.  Paine's  to  the  afternoon  exercises. 

The  annual  collegiate  dinner  being  finished  in 
the  hall,  after  the  morning  exercises,  the  writer 
was  ordered,  by  the  President,  to  appear  in  tlm 
Philosophy  chamber,  to  answer  for  his  disobedi- 
ence. After  a  short  lecture,  not  unaccompanied 
with  threats  of  being  denied  a  degree,  he  was  sent 
to  find  Paine ;  the  object  being,  strictly  to  for- 
bid his  delivery  of  the  lines  erased.  The  writer 
did  not  take  much  trouble  to  find  him,  and  returned 
without  success.  The  Librarian  was  then  dis- 
patched on  the  same  errand,  who  went  down  to 
the  hall  of  commons,  where  he  knew  Paine  was  not; 
and  after  staying  a  few  minutes,  returned  also, 
unsuccessfuly.  Another  messenger  was  despatched, 
who  found  Paine  in  the  meeting-house,  seated  by 
the  stage,  and  ready  to  perform  ;  the  house  being 
crouded,  and  the  time  having  arrived  for  the  after- 
noon exercises.  He  was  told  to  appear  before  the 
corporation  of  the  college.  "  Give  my  compliments 
to  them,"  said  Paine,  "  and  tell  them  I  will  not 
come."  It  was  not  known  whether  this  answer 
was  reported — probably  not ;  as  the  procession 
was  formed,  and  ready  to  move. 


BIOGRAPHY. 

Mr.  Paine's  poem  was  received  with  very  great 
applause.  When  the  erased  lines  were  spoken,  a 
little  hissing  was  heard,  which  was  soon  drowned 
by  repeated,  loud  rounds  of  approbation. 

We  were  both  doubtful  whether  our  degrees 
would  be  conferred.  Not  being  under  the  imme- 
diate government  of  the  college,  Paine,  as  a  citi- 
zen, conceived  he  had  a  right  to  utter  the  lines ; 
and  was  quite  indifferent  whether  a  degree  was 
conferred  or  not.  The  degrees,  however,  were 
conferred.  The  President  had  no  objection  to  the 
verses,  other  than  what  arose  from  an  unwilling- 
ness to  have  Governor  Adams,  who  was  present, 
and  perhaps  a  few  others,  believe  he  had  sanc- 
tioned them. 

"  The  Invention  of  Letters"  was  immediately 
printed,  and  passed  through  two  large  editions,  in 
a  very  short  time.  It  was  inscribed  to  General 
Washington ;  to  whom  a  copy  was  transmitted  by 
the  author,  who  received  a  highly  complementary 
letter  from  that  great  man,  which,  from  some  cas- 
ualty, cannot  at  present  be  found. 

It  has  been  observed,  that  to  his  newspaper  he 
paid  little  attention.  During  the  autumn  of  1795, 
and  the  winter  of  1796,  he  was  so  much  devoted 
to  the  theatre  ;  to  company,  (especially  literary,) 
and  to  the  general  amusements  of  the  town,  that 
no  one  would  have  suspected  his  being  the  editor 
of  the  Orrery,  but  from  seeing  his  name,  as  such, 


BIOGRAPHY. 


at  the  head  of  the  first  page.  In  April,  1796,  he 
sold  the  establishment,  after  having  lost  and  been 
defrauded  of  several  thousand  dollars,  by  entrust- 
ing its  concerns  to  others.  Previous  to  his  disposing 
of  his  paper,  he  received  the  appointment  of  "Mas- 
ter of  Ceremonies"  in  the  theatre,  with  a  salary 
sufficient  for  a  comfortable  support.  The  greater 
part  of  his  time,  however,  being  at  his  own  dispo- 
sal, though  his  inquisitive  and  excursive  mind  was 
ever  on  the  alert,  and  he  was  constantly  adding  to 
his  stock  of  knowledge  :  not  moving  in  those  higher 
circles,  which  ought  to  have  rejoiced  in  the  honour 
and  pleasure  of  his  company  :  but  who  fastidiously 
considered  as  a  degradation,  his  marriage  with  an 
actress,  (though,  subsequently,  Mrs.  Paine  never 
appeared  on  the  boards  :•)  he  sometimes  associated 
with  those,  whose  fellowship  neither  strengthened 
his  virtues,  increased  his  happiness,  or  enhanced 
his  credit.  He  resorted  much  to  the  house  of  his 
father-in-law,  who,  at  that  time,  kept  a  hotel  ; 
where,  frequently  yielding  to  improper  hours  and 
indulgences,  he  began  to  confirm  injurious  habits. 
His  offences  against  temperance,  though  seldom 
excessive,  from  repetition,  acquired  strength,  and 
became  the  necessary  order  of  the  day. 

Genius  knows  its  own  worth  and  feels  its  own 

dignity.      Titled   folly   and  wealthy  impotence, 

measure  men,   not  by  their  minds,  but  -by  their 

height  ;  not  by  their  merit,  but  by  tlioir  altitude  in 

7 


BIOGRAPHY. 

society.  Paine  felt  the  neglect  of  his  inferiors, 
who  moved  in  a  higher  orbit.  A  soul  like  his,  is 
ever  active  in  literary  commerce ;  ever  ready  to 
communicate  and  receive ;  and,  by  constant  barter 
and  exchange  of  intellectual  stores,  ever  anxious 
to  add  to  the  capital  stock.  A  supercilious  pride 
had,  at  least,  partially  excluded  him  from  higher 
society,  and  compelled  him  to  intercourses,  not 
always  the  most  reputable  or  useful. 

Mr.  Paine  was  appointed,  by  the  <•  Phi  Beta 
Kappa  Society"  of  Harvard  University,  to  deliver 
a  poem  on  their  anniversary,  July  SOth,  1797- 
This  is  the  longest  and  most  perfect  of  all  his 
poetical  productions.  We  know  of  no  satire,  of 
Horace  or  Juvenal,  Boileau  or  Pope,  that  surpasses 
it.  It  was  his  intention  to  make  some  alterations 
and  additions  to  this  poem  ;  but  he  was  prevented, 
by  his  constitutional  aptitude  to  delay  till  to-mor- 
row, and  to-morrow,  and  to-morrow. 

He  considered  the  "  Ruling  Passion"  as  a 
gallery  of  portraits,  which  he  intended,  at  a  future 
time,  to  improve  and  amplify.  The  comparisoa 
of  different  characters  with  different  brutes,  is  the 
most  perfect  and  condensed.  The  description  of 
the  fop,  the  pedant,  the  frail  beauty,  the  old  maid, 
and  the  miser,  have,  perhaps,  never  been  equalled. 
The  apostrophe  to  poetry  is  written  in  the  sublimest 
strain  of  poetry  and  pathos.  Fearing  it  might  be 
his  own 


BIOGRAPHY. 

«  Horrid  Fate  I  the  living  Muse  to  see, 

Bound  to  the  mouldering  corpse  of  Penury;" 

about  two  years  after  writing  this  poem,  he  bade 
farewell  to  the  muses ;  and  for  eighteen  or  twenty 
months,  entirely  neglected  his  first  love.  Affec- 
Jion  and  association,  however,  returned  5  the  Indian 
way  was  forsaken  for  the  Appian ;  and,  during 
most  of  his  life,  from  his  poetical  Pisgah,  he  with 
sorrow  perceived,  that 

"  The  Canaan,  he  must  ne'er  possess,  was  gold." 
When  it  is  considered,  for  how  small  sums  many 
of  the  finest  minor  poems  have  been  originally 
sold  to  British  booksellers,  the  reader  will  be  sur- 
prised to  learn  how  liberally  the  effusions  of  Mr. 
Paine  have  been  patronised  in  this  country.  For 
his  "Invention  of  Letters/'  he  received  fifteen 
hundred  dollars,  exclusive  of  expense ;  and  twelve 
hundred  dollars  profit,  by  the  sale  of  his  "  Ruling 
Passion/' 

In  June,  1798,  at  the  request  of  the  "Massachu- 
setts Charitable  Fire  Society,"  Mr.  Paine  wrote 
his  celebrated  political  song  of  "  Adams  and  Lib- 
erty." It  may  appear  singular,  that  politics  should 
have  any  connexion  with  an  institution  of  benevo- 
lence :  but  the  great  object  of  the  anniversary  being 
to  obtain  charitable  donations,  the  more  various 
and  splendid  were  the  attractions,  the  more  crowded 
the  attendance ;  and  of  course,  the  more  ample  the 
accumulation  for  charity. 


BIOGRAPHY. 


There  was,  probably,  never  a  political  song  more 
sung  in  America,  than  this  ;  and  one  of  more  poet- 
ical merit  was,  perhaps,  never  written  :  an  anec- 
dote deserves  notice,  respecting  one  of  the  best 
stanzas  in  it.  Mr.  Paine  had  written  all  he  intended  ; 
and  being  in  the  house  of  Major  Russell,  the  editor 
of  the  Centinel,  showed  him  the  verses.  It  Avas 
highly  approved,  but  pronounced  imperfect  ;  as 
Washington  was  omitted.  The  sideboard  was 
replenished,  and  Paine  was  about  to  help  himself; 
when  Major  Russell  familiarly  interfered,  and 
insisted,  in  his  humourous  manner,  that  he  should 
not  slake  his  thirst,  till  he  had  written  an  additional 
stanza,  in  which  Washington  should  be  introduced. 
Paine  marched  back  and  forth  a  few  minutes,  and 
suddenly  starting,  called  for  a  pen.  He  immedi- 
ately wrote  the  following  sublime  stanza,  afterwards 
making  one  or  two  trivial  verbal  amendments  : 

Should  the  Tempest  of  War  overshadow  our  land, 

Its  bolts  could  ne'er  rend  Freedom's  temple  asunder  ; 
For,  unmoved,  at  its  portal,  would  Washington  stand  ; 
And  repulse,  with  his  breast,  the  assaults  of  the  thunder  I 
His  sword,  from  the  sleep 
Of  its  scabbard  would  leap, 

And  conduct,  with  its  point,  ev'ry  flash  to  the  deep  ! 
For  ne'er  shall  the  sons,  Sec. 

The  sale  of  this  song  yielded  him  a  profit  of 
about  seven  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  It  was 
read  by  all  ;  and  there  was  scarcely,  in  New  Eng- 
land, a  singer,  that  could  not  sing  this  song.  Nor 


BIOGRAPHY. 

was  its  circulation  confined  to  New  England :  it 
was  sung  at  theatres,  and  on  public  aud  private 
occasions,  throughout  the  United  States  ;  and  re- 
published  and  applauded  in  Great  Britain. 

The  theatre  having  been  destroyed  by  fire,  in 
February,  1798 ;  in  the  autumn  of  this  year,  it  was 
rebuilt  and  enlarged.  Paine  engaged  to  write  a 
Dedicatory  Address,  to  be  spoken  by  Mr.  Hodg- 
kinson,  then  manager,  when  the  theatre  should  be 
again  opened ;  of  which,  due  notice  was  given  in 
the  public  papers.  The  theatre  was  to  be  opened 
on  Monday,  October  29 ih.  Jllulta  agenda  nihil 
agens  was  certainly  his  business  during  theatrical 
vacations,  and  he  neglected  his  Prologue  till 
Sunday,  the  day  before  its  intended  delivery  :  on 
which  day,  between  two  and  three  o'clock,  some 
literary  acquaintance  having  dined,  and  being  then 
present  with  him,  Mr.  Hodgkinson  entered  in  a 
rage,  and  immediately  began  to  upbraid  him  for 
his  negligence.  The  public  had  been  informed 
that  a  Prologue  was  to  be  spoken  by  the  manager, 
not  a  word  of  which  was  yet  written  :  he  begged 
Paine  to  write  something,  however  short  or  indif- 
ferent, that  the  theatrical  campaign  might  not  com- 
mence with  a  broken  promise.  "  Pray  do  not  be 
angry,  Hodgkinson/"'  said  Paine  ;  "sit  down,  and 
take  a  glass  of  wine."  "No  sir,"  said  Hodgkin- 
son, "  when  you  begin  to  write,  I  will  begin  to 
drink." — He  immediately  took  his  pen,  at  a  side 


BIOGRAPHY. 

table,  and  began  to  write.  At  half  past  eight,  he 
completed  the  whole  of  it,  as  it  now  stands,  ex- 
cepting the  last  sixteen  lines,  relative  to  Adams, 
which  were  added  the  next  day,  as  a  compliment 
to  President  Adams  :  it  having  been  repeated  on 
Tuesday  evening,  an  extra  play  night,  commemo- 
rating his  birth  day,  at  which  he  was  present.  This 
Address  contains  many  fine  lines,  and  the  political 
satire  is  of  the  highest  stamp.  The  treatment  of 
the  American  ministers,  by  Talleyrand  and  his 
agents ;  the  assumption  of  a  threatening  aspect ; 
and  afterwards,  menaces  having  failed,  his  concil- 
iatory deportment,  are  most  severely  satirized. 

As  some  old  Bawd,  who  all  her  life  hath  been 
A  fungus,  sprouting  from  the  filth  of  sin  ; 
Whose  dry  trunk  seasons  in  the  frost  of  Vice ; 
Like  radish,  saved  from  rotting  by  the  ice ; 
When  threatening  bailiffs  first  her  conscience.  awe> 
Not  with  the  fear  of  shame,  but  fear  of  law, 
Sets  out  at  sixty,  in  contrition's  search, 
Rubs  garlick  on  her  eyes,  and  goes  to  church ! 
Thus  Europe's  courtezan,  well  versed  in  wiles, 
Whose  kisses  poison,  while  the  harlot  smiles, 
With  pious  sorrow  hears  our  cannon  roar, 
And  swears  devoutly,  that  she'll  sin  no  more  ! 

Mr.  Paine  continued  in  his  theatrical  office, 
during  this  season.  In  February,  1799,  he  had, 
as  he  had  been  accustomed  to  have  several  seasons 
before,  a  very  profitable  benefit. 

The  treaty  between  this  country  and  France, 
made  in  1778,  was  abrogated  by  Congress,  July 


BIOGRAPHY. 


7th,  1798  ;  a  year  after  which,  the  young  men  of 
Boston  determined  to  celebrate  the  anniversary. 
It  was  not,  however,  resolved,  till  after  the  7th  of 
July;  and  Wednesday,  the  17th,  was  fixed  for  the 
day.  Application  was  made  to  Mr.  Paine,  to  de- 
liver an  Oration  on  the  occasion,  the  Saturday 
evening  preceding  the  17th. 

Short  as  was  the  time  for  preparation,  the  glow 
of  feeling,  the  swell  of  language,  and  the  brilliancy 
of  sentiments,  suitable  to  an  address  of  such  a 
nature,  have  very  seldom  been  surpassed.  It  was 
delivered  at  seven  o'clock,  on  the  morning  previous 
to  Commencement  at  Cambridge,  to  an  audience, 
crowded  to  almost  the  utmost  pressure  of  possi- 
bility ;  and  was  received  with  rapturous  and  en- 
thusiastic applause. 

A  copy  of  this  Address  was  forwarded  to  Gen- 
eral Washington,  and  another  to  Mr.  Adams,  then 
President  of  the  United  States  ;  accompanied  with 
a  letter  to  each,  copies  of  which  were  not  retained. 

From  General  Washington,  he  received  the  fol- 
lowin answer. 


" 


Mount  Vernon,  September  1st,  1799. 

"  SIR,  —  I  have  duly  received  your  letter,  of  the 
12th  of  August,  together  with  the  Oration  delivered 
by  you,  in  Boston,  on  the  17th  of  July. 

"  I  thank  you  for  the  very  flattering  sentiments 
which  you  have  expressed  in  your  letter,  respect- 


I  BIOGRAPHY. 

ing  myself,  and  I  consider  your  sending  me  your 
Oration,  as  a  mark  of  polite  attention,  which  de- 
mands my  best  acknowledgements  ;  and  I  pray 
you  will  be  assured,  that  I  am  never  more  gratified 
than  when  I  see  the  effusions  of  genius  from  some 
of  the  rising  generation,  which  promises  to  secure 
our  national  rank  in  the  literary  world  ;  as  I  trust 
their  firm,  manly,  and  patriotic  conduct  will  ever 
maintain  it,  with  dignity,  in  the  political. 
"I  am,  Sir,  very  respectfully, 

"  Your  most  obedient  servant, 

«  GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 
"MR.  THOMAS  PAINE." 

From  Mr.  Adams,  the  following  was  received. 
«  Quincy,  August  4th,  1799. 

"  SIR, — I  have  received,  with  great  pleasure, 
your  very  handsome  letter  of  the  27th  of  July, 
enclosed  with  a  copy  of  your  Oration,  delivered  at 
Boston,  on  the  17th  of  last  month.  This  Oration 
is  another  effort  of  a  pregnant  and  prolific  genius, 
which  had  before  exhibited  many  elegant,  learned, 
and  masterly  productions,  to  the  delight  of  our 
Americans,  and  the  applause  of  all  men  of  taste 
and  sentiment,  in  other  countries. 

"  The  young  men  of  Boston  do  honour  to  their 
education,  their  parents,  and  their  country ;  and, 
in  the  celebration  of  that  day,  were  excited  by  the 
purest  motives,  and  governed  by  the  best  principles. 


BIOGRAPHY.  H 

« I  thank  you,  Sir,  for  your  civilities  to  me  upon 
this,  and  many  former  occasions ;  and  should  be 
happy  to  have  a  more  particular  acquaintance  with 
you.  Quincy  is  a  short,  pleasant,  and  salubrious 
excursion  from  Boston ;  and  here  I  should  be  much 
obliged  with  a  visit  from  Mr.  Paine,  to  spend 
some  time  with  us. 

"  I  am,  Sir,  with  high  esteem  for 

your  talents  and  character,  your  most 
obedient  and  most  humble  servant, 

"JOHN  ADAMS. 

«  MR.  THOMAS  PAIXE." 

The  friends  of  Mr.  Paine,  he  having  improved 
in  his  habits,  were  very  numerous.  Many  respect- 
able gentlemen,  who  admired  his  talents,  were 
solicitous  that  they  should  be  employed,  more  for 
his  own  emolument,  his  reputation,  and  the  repu- 
tation of  the  country,  than  for  several  years  they 
had  been,  on  account  of  his  attachment  to  the  the- 
atre ;  and  urged  him  to  the  pursuit  of  a  regular 
profession;  and  offered  him  pecuniary  assistance, 
on  condition  of  his  entering  upon  the  study  of  the 
law. 

To  these  proposals  he  listened  ;  dissolved  his 
connexion  with  the  theatre  ;  and  moving  his  fam- 
ily to  Newburyport,  entered  his  name  as  student 
at  law,  in  the  office  of  THEOPHILUS  PARSONS,  Esq. 
at  present  Chief  Justice  of  the  Supreme  Court  of 
8 


i 


Hi  BIOGRAPHY. 

this  State ;  who  cheerfully  received  him  as  such, 
refusing  to  accept  the  customary  fee  for  tuition. 

Mr.  Paine  always  alleged,  notwithstanding  the 
friendly  assurances  of  pecuniary  assistance,  which 
had  been  promised,  that  he  never  received  any 
such  aid  as  was  expected.  But  since  his  decease 
we  have  been  informed,  upon  enquiry,  that  Mr. 
Abraham  Touro  endorsed  some  small  notes  at  the 
bank,  which  were  paid  by  him,  without  recurrence 
to  the  drawer.  Probably  Mr.  Paine  considered 
this  as  a  debt ;  although  we  have  no  doubt  that 
Mr.  Touro  intended  it  as  a  gratuity. 

Mr.  Paine  was  now  happily  fixed  in  the  office 
of  the  first  law  character  in  the  country ;  of  a  gen- 
tleman, not  less  distinguished  by  his  literary  attain- 
ments, and  giant  intellect,  than  by  his  benevolence, 
urbanity,  and  all  the  virtues  that  distinguish  the 
great  and  good :  and  he  applied  his  mind,  with 
indefatigable  assiduity,  to  his  legal  studies. 

The  sale  of  his  Oration,  and  the  profits  of  his 
benefit  at  the  theatre,  had  enabled  him  to  discharge 
all  his  little  debts,  leaving  a  surplus  for  his  mainte- 
nance for  some  months.  When  this  was  expended, 
by  loans,  and  by  literary  assistance  to  the  New- 
buryport  booksellers,  he  was  enabled  to  support 
himself,  at  least  comfortably,  while  he  remained 
in  that  town,  which  was  about  a  year. 

General  Washington  died  on  the  14th  of  Decem- 
ber, 1799.  On  the  2d  of  January,  1800,  at  the 


BIOGRAPHY. 

request  of  the  town  of  Newburyport,  Mr.  Paine 
delivered  a  Eulogy  on  his  life.  .  It  was  a  splendid 
and  powerful  exhibition  of  oratory ;  it  was  received 
with  the  highest  approbation ;  published  and  re- 
published  in  the  English  language  ;  and,  it  is  said, 
was  translated  as  widely  as  the  name  of  Washing- 
ton was  known. 

In  August,  1800,  Mr.  Parsons  having  removed 
to  Boston,  Mr.  Paine  and  his  family  returned. 

He  continued  industriously  attentive  to  his 
studies  and  regular  in  his  habits.  He  had  for  more 
than  a  year  bade  adieu  to  poetry  :  but  in  Decem- 
ber, he  was  persuaded  to  write  an  Ode  for  the 
"  Festival  of  the  Sons  of  the  Pilgrims,"  the  anni- 
versary, celebrating  the  landing  of  the  forefathers 
of  New  England,  at  Plymouth.  He  did  not,  how- 
ever, abandon  himself  to  poetry ;  but  wrote  merely 
a  few  short  pieces,  till  July,  1802,  when  he  was 
regularly  admitted  a  practitioner  of  law,  in  the 
Court  of  Common  Pleas,  in  the  county  of  Suffolk. 
Previously  to  his  admission,  he  had  frequently 
argued  causes  before  magistrates  and  referees  ; 
and  had  given  his  friends  the  highest  hopes  of 
future  excellence.  As  soon  as  he  opened  his  office, 
he  received  an  uncommon  share  of  patronage. 
Perhaps  no  young  attorney  in  the  town  was  ever 
so  suddenly  and  so  fully  crowded  with  business, 
to  which  he  was  assiduously  attentive.  His  talents 
for  business  were  remarkable,  and  every  exhibition 


v  BIOGRAPHY. 

in  court  was  an  "  earnest  of  success. "  Though 
he  attended  the  theatre,  and  partook  of  the  amuse- 
ment of  a  social  whist  club,  at  Concert  Hall ;  he 
neglected  not  his  duty  to  his  clients,  for  the  pleas- 
ures of  the  drama  :  and  at  the  club,  his  bets  were 
moderate  and  his  play  judicious.  He  was  never 
intemperate ;  and  his  retirement  was  seasonable. 

Till  the  autumn  of  1803,  Mr.  Paine  had  been 
diligent  in  his  profession,  was  accumulating  prop- 
erty, and  increasing  in  reputation.  After  the  com- 
mencement of  the  theatrical  season,  he  gradually 
neglected  his  office,  and  became  more  and  more 
attached,  not  merely  to  dramatic  amusements,  but 
to  familiar  intercourse  with  the  performers. 

Some  favourite,  in  the  green-room,  for  distant 
admiration,  or  more  familiar  intimacy,  seemed 
always  essential  to  his  felicity.  Mrs.  Jones,  as  a 
singer  and  performer,  was  now  at  the  zenith  of  her 
reputation  upon  the  Boston  boards.  This  erratic 
Venus  crossed  his  orbit  and  attracted  him  from  his 
course.  When  passing  the  isle  of  the  Syrens,  he 
could  not,  like  Ulysses,  close  his  ears.  Fortiua 
utere  loris,  was  a  maxim,  of  which,  the  appetites 
and  passions  of  his  advanced  years  prohibited  the 
adoption.  The  prospective  scenes  of  his  life  were, 
at  this  time,  alluringly  gilded ;  but  no  sense  of 
duty,  no  desire  of  usefulness,  no  ambition  of 
renown,  could  reinspire  his  inveterate  inaction. 


BIOGRAPHY.  y 

His  clients  were  neglected  ;  suits,  in  which  he 
had  been  engaged,  were  left  to  the  care  of  others  ; 
his  old  patrons  forsook  him  ;  and  his  known  inat- 
tention to  his  profession,  prevented  the  application 
of  new  ;  until,  in  the  course  of  two  years,  his  office 
was  forsaken  almost  entirely  by  himself  and  his 
employers.  The  reasoning,  chiding,  and  urging 
of  friends,  and  the  expostulation  of  his  father,  were 
ineffectual.  His  friendship  for  Bacchus  became 
constant,  though  seldom  excessive.  Gentlemen  of 
the  bar  assisted  him  gratuitously  in  the  prosecu- 
tion and  termination  of  suits,  which  he  had  com- 
menced; but  many  of  his  clients  were  unavoidably 
losers  by  his  neglect  of  their  causes. 

His  name  was  not  taken  from  his  office  door  till 
the  year  1809  ;  but,  for  several  years  previous,  he 
scarcely  paid  the  least  attention  to  business  ;  neg- 
lecting even  his  own  claims,  as  well  as  the  concerns 
of  others.  During  these  years,  till  the  day  of  his 
death,  scarcely  was  ever  poet  more  completely  under 
the  despotism  of  abject  poverty  and  disease.  Along 
and  severe  fit  of  sickness, -in  1805,  had  shattered 
his  constitution,  and  he  seemed  indifferent  to  that 
temperance  and  care,  by  which  alone,  if  at  all,  his 
health  might  have  been  re-established. 

In  the  spring  of  the  year  1807?  he  took  a  house 
in  Dorchester,  where  his  family  resided  till  within 
a  few  months  before  his  death.  The  distance 
from  town  being  about  three  miles,  his  time  was 


Ivi 


BIOGRAPHY. 


divided   between  Dorchester   and  Boston.      He 
had  abandoned  the  law,  and  seemed  determined 
never  to  resume  the  profession  ;  but  fed  his  hopes 
with  daily  resolves  on  the  prosecution  of  some  lit- 
erary employment,  which  might  add  to  his  repu- 
tation, and  afford  him  the  means  of  subsistence. 
Atone  time, he  determined  to  publish  a  commercial 
paper  ;  at  another,  he  proposed  writing  a  new  and 
complete  system  of  Rhetoric.     He  determined  to 
fill  the  pantomine  of  Blaekbeard,  and  made  great 
progress  in  it.    He  digested  in  his  mind  the  princi- 
pal scenes ;  when,  a  few  pages  being  misplaced,  he 
was  so  disconcerted,  that  he  never  resumed  it.    He 
had  projected  another  play,  of  a  higher  order,  and 
had  filled  some  of  the  most  important  scenes.     The 
plot  was  imaginary,  and  the  action  was  thrown 
back  some  centuries.     The  principal  scene  was 
laid  in  the  Appenines,  which  afforded  full  scope 
for  picturesque  scenery. 

A  Spanish  prince,  endued  with  all  the  virtues 
of  a  chivalrous  age,  became  enamoured  of  a  lady, 
inferiour  in  rank,  but  worthy  of  his  affection. 

Love  led  by  Honour  at  her  shrine  adored. 

The  unrelenting  vengeance  of  his  father,  not 
only  discarded  him  as  a  successour,  and  exiled  him 
from  his  dominions  ;  but  offered  rewards  and  hon- 
ours to  the  assassin,  who  should  exhibit  his  head 
in  the  palace,  In  this  extremity,  the  exile  fled  to 


BIOGRAPHY. 


the  mountains,  and  casually  fell  into  the  hands  of 
a  Moorish  prince,  his  mortal  enemy,  whom  the 
disasterous  chances  of  war  had  compelled  to  seek 
the  same  solitary  refuge.  His  education  and  hab- 
its, the  rights  of  war,  and  the  mandates  of  his 
religion,  demanded  the  life  of  his  prisoner.  But 
Saracen  humanity  triumphed  over  the  dictates 
of  duty.  Succours  arrived  from  Africa,  and  the 
Moor  descended  from  the  mountain  to  join  his 
forces  and  give  battle  to  the  Christians.  The  for- 
tune of  the  day  turned  in  his  favour,  and  the  father 
and  future  bride  of  his  caverned  guest  became  his 
prisoners.  The  sequestered  prince  was  invited 
from  his  retreat,  and  the  lovers  were  happily  united. 
The  Moor,  without  intercession,  offered  to  restore 
to  the  inexorable  father  his  sceptre,  if  he  would 
endure  the  connubial  happiness  of  his  son,  and  rein- 
state him  in  his  political  rights.  The  offer  was 
accepted  ;  and  the  Saracen  crowned  the  prince  and 
hero  with  the  radiance  of  moral  glory.  Humanity 
saved  his  enemy  ;  his  enemy  became  his  friend  ; 
and  the  divine  impulses  of  friendship  induced  him 
to  forego  the  rigiits  of  a  conqueror  ! 

The  labour  of  Invention  was  over;  and  the  little, 
that  remained  to  be  done,  was  to  adjust  the  scenes 
and  prepare  the  dialogue  for  the  subalterns  of  the 
piece  ;  but  this  little  was  never  accomplished. 

In  the  winter  of  1808,  he  issued  proposals  for 
publishing  his  poetical  works.  In  a  short  time,  he 


BIOGRAPHY. 


persevered  so  far,  as  to  attend  to  the  correction  of 
thirty  or  forty  pages  :  but  neither  the  desire  of 
escaping  from  the  pinching  penury,  by  which,  he 
was  tormented  ;  nor  a  due  regard  to  his  prom- 
ises, and  reputation,  could  rouse  him  from  his 
habitual  indolence.  "Shortly,  in  a  little  while, 
in  a  few  months,"  were  his  regular  responses  to 
those,  who  requested  information  when  his  works 
would  appear  :  but  no  further  progress  was  made 
in  their  accomplishment. 

At  the  request  of  the  merchants,  who  gave  a  din- 
ner, in  1809,  in  honour  of  the  "  Spanish  Patriots," 
Mr.  Paine  wrote  an  Ode.  About  the  same  time, 
he  wrote  a  compendium  of  the  history  of  that  chiv- 
alrous and  gallant  people,  and  published  them  in 
a  pamphlet.  Both  were  translated  into  the  Spanish 
language,  to  the  great  emolument  of  the  Spanish 
bookseller.  The  Ode  was  criticised  in  his  pres- 
ence, and  he,  laughingly,  replied,  "It  is  a  commer- 
cial Ode  for  a  Spanish  market.  In  the  manufacture, 
I  regarded  more  the  gaudiness  of  the  colours,  than 
the  texture  of  the  fabric." 

In  the  year  1809,  at  the  request  of  Mrs.  Stanley, 
an  actress  of  some  celebrity,  who  had  been  on  the 
Boston  boards,  and  with  whom  Paine  was  inti- 
mately acquainted,  he  wrote  "  A  Monody  on  the 
death  of  Sir  John  Moore."  Mrs.  Stanley  was 
then  in  Quebec,  where,  it  is  said,  she  recited  the 
Monody  repeatedly,  to  overflowing  houses,  and 


BIOGRAPHY.  x 

with  the  highest  commendation  from  the  Quebec 
audience.  This  Monody,  after  making  some  addi- 
tions, he  published  in  Boston,  in  the  summer  of 
1811 ;  but  he  was  mortified  and  disappointed  in 
the  limited  sale  of  the  poem. 

During  the  theatrical  season  of  1810-11,  two 
original  plays  were  repeatedly  acted  on  the  Bos- 
ton stage,  written  by  William  C.  White,  Esq.  to 
each  of  these,  Mr.  Paine  wrote  a  long  Epilogue. 
Whatever  might  be  the  merit  of  the  plays,  the 
Epilogues  were  of  sufficient  attraction  to  secure 
a  respectable  audience.  Hundreds  of  dollars  he 
had  frequently  received  from  the  sale  of  a  poem 
of  one  or  two  hundred  lines,  and  he  had  no  reason 
to  doubt  a  similar  success,  from  a  similar  exertion, 
at  any  time  ;  yet  to  such  exertion,  for  his  own  ad- 
vantage, he  could  not  be  incited ;  though,  from 
pure  benevolence,  and  a  wish  to  encourage  Amer- 
ican literature,  he  wrote,  for  a  small  gratuity,  an 
Epilogue  of  above  two  hundred  lines  ! 

In  1811,  he  had  a  benefit,  by  the  indulgence  of 
Messrs.  Powell  and  Dickenson,  the  Boston  man- 
agers, which  yielded  him,  although  the  weather 
was  inclement,  two  hundred  dollars. 

During  these  last  years  of  his  life,  without  a 
library,  wandering  from  place  to  place,  frequently 
uncertain  where,  or  whether  he  could  procure 
a  meal ;  his  thirst  and  acquisition  of  knowl- 
edge astonishingly  increased.  Though  frequently 
9 


IX  BIOGRAPHY. 

tormented  with  disease,  and  beset  by  duns  and 
"  the  law's  staff  officers,"  from  whom,  and  from 
prison,  he  was  frequently  relieved  by  friendship ; 
neither  sickness  nor  penury  abated  his  love  of  a 
book,  and  of  instructive  conversation. 

He  was  several  times  confined  by  sickness  for 
several  weeks,  during  which,  his  spirits  sometimes 
forsook  him  ;  but  no  sooner  was  he  enabled  to  go 
abroad,  than  hopes  and  spirits  affected  him  with 
all  their  juvenile  ardour  ;  and  plans  for  future  life 
were  alternately  projected  and  abandoned,  and 
new  ones  conceived  and  rejected. 

Having  long  been  on  terms  of  the  most  intimate 
friendship  with  him,  and  not  having  seen  him, 
for  upwards  of  three  years  ;  the  writer  was  ex- 
tremely gratified  in  being  able  to  spend  a  few  dayg 
with  him,  the  last  August.  Finding  his  libations 
to  Bacchus  were  copious  and  constant,  the  liberty 
was  assumed  of  expostulating  with  him,  with  all 
possible  delicacy ;  but  in  such  firm  terms,  as  the 
sincerity  and  interest  of  deep  affection,  might 
justify.  He  listened,  at  first,  with  patience,  and 
without  offence.  He  attempted  to  justify  himself, 
from  the  necessity  of  the  case.  Such,  he  said, 
was  then  the  situation  of  his  constitution,  that  a 
great  quantity  of  stimulants  were  not  only  harm- 
less, but  absolutely  necessary.  The  writer  urged, 
(informing  him,  in  some  degree,  hand  inexpertus 
loqiior,)  that  the  habit  of  using  such  stimulants 


BIOGRAPHY.  1x1 

might  be  forsaken  abruptly,  with  probable  safety ; 
but  gradually,  with  certain  success  ;  after  which, 
the  desire,  or  seeming  necessity  of  their  use,  would 
never  return.  Neglected,  as  he  supposed  himself, 
by  friends,  injured  as  was  his  reputation,  empty 
as  were  his  coffers  ;  he  was  assured  of  the  return 
of  friendship,  the  reparation  of  character,  and  cer- 
tainty of  emolument,  on  the  first  well-grounded 
assurance  of  reformation.  More  than  all  other  con- 
siderations, the  endeavour  was  made  to  reanimate 
his  love  of  poetical  fame,  and  he  was  entreated  to 
undertake  some  work  of  length,  that  would  (as  such 
a  work  from  him  must)  increase  the  literary  reputa- 
tion of  the  country,  and  ensure  his  own  immortality. 

Such  gentle  upbraidings,  soon  excited  his  iras- 
cibility ;  and  we  parted,  the  one  in  tears,  the  other 
in  a  state  of  irritation,  which,  however,  was  for- 
gotten, on  meeting  the  next  day. 

On  the  subject  of  his  disorders,  Dr.  Warren,  sen. 
eminent  as  a  surgeon  and  physician,  who  was  his 
regular  attendant,  and  in  whom  his  patient  had 
the  greatest  confidence,  has  been  kind  enough  to 
furnish  the  following : 

"  For  several  of  the  last  years  of  his  life,  Mr. 
Paine  was  afflicted  with  disease,  which  rendered 
his  situation  extremely  uncomfortable  and  dis- 
tressing. 

"  In  the  autumn  of  1805,  he  was  attacked  with 
a  Dysentery,  which,  from  neglect  in  the  early 


BIOGRAPHY. 


stages  of  it,  had  become  obs-inate  and  confirmed. 
By  a  suitable  course  of  med  cine  and  regimen,  the 
complaint  was,  indeed,  mitigated  ;  but,  at  length, 
degenerated  into  chronic  Diarrhcea.  The  organs 
connected  with  the  stomach,  and  subservient  to  the 
process  of  digestion,  soon  became  diseased  ;  and 
obstructions  of  the  liver  and  other  glandular  parts 
in  the  vicinity,  almost  entirely  destroyed  that  im- 
portant function;  and  a  long  train  of  the  most 
troublesome  symptoms  ensued  ;  from  most  of  which, 
he  from  time  obtained  a  partial  relief  only,  by  an 
occasional  recurrence  to  medicine. 

"In  his  languid  and  emaciated  frame,  his  friends 
had  long  discovered  the  harbingers  of  dissolution  ; 
and  it  was  not  surprising  that,  under  these  circum- 
stances, his  spirits  were  sometimes  depressed  and 
despondent. 

"  Alternately  flattered  by  amendment  and  the 
prospects  of  recovery,  and  disappointed  by  relapse 
and  the  evidences  of  increasing  weakness  and 
decay,  his  existence  had  become  burdensome  ;  and 
an  uncommon  share  of  fortitude,  only,  enabled  him 
to  '  sustain  his  infirmity/ 

"  If  his  fortitude  sometimes  failed  him,  and  he  was 
not  always  on  his  guard  against  the  weaknesses  of 
his  nature,  let  it  be  remembered,  that  he  was  human. 

"The  long  catalogue  of  sufferings,  which  he 
had  so  patiently  endured,  was  closed  by  the  symp- 
toms of  JHydrothorax,  or  Dropsy  of  the  Chest. 


BIOGRAPHY, 


"  Till  within  a  few  days  of  his  death,  he  had 
possessed  his  mental  faculties  in  remarkable  per- 
fection ;  and  he  expired,  without  having  expe- 
rienced much  more  pain,  than  what  had  often 
attended  some  periods  of  his  sickness,  and  without 
any  apparent  agonies  of  dissolution." 

He  remained  in  a  very  feeble  state  of  health, 
and  unemployed  ;  alternately  cheered  by  hope,  and 
depressed  by  despondency,  till  about  three  months 
prior  to  his  death  ;  when  his  landlord,  to  whom  he 
had  never  paid  but  little  rent,  and  for  which,  he  in 
vain  sought  security  for  the  future,  threatened  his 
expulsion  from  the  premises,  vi  et  armis.  During 
the  period  in  which  Mr.  Paine  was  so  besieged  by 
his  landlord  ;  he  tried  in  vain,  day  after  day,  to 
procure  a  habitation  for  his  family,  in  town.  At 
length  a  friend  suggested  to  him,  that  his  want  of 
health,  his  want  of  business,  and  his  known  embar- 
rassments, interposed  insuperable  obstacles  to  the 
obtainment  of  a  house,  without  giving  security  for 
the  rent.  At  this  suggestion,he  was  highly  indignant* 

The  day  at  length  arrived,  when  he  was  com- 
pelled  to  quit  his  dwelling  in  Dorchester  ;  his  fur- 
niture was  brought  to  town  ;  a  part  of  it  was  left  at 
his  father's,  and  a  portion  was  sent  to  Mrs.  Paine's 
mother's,  who  kept  a  small  shop  in  town  for  her 
subsistence.  His  wife  and  one  child  went  also  to 
her  mother's  for  a  temporary  residence,  and  two  of 
the  children  were  at  his  father's.  He  was  fed  and 


BIOGRAPHY. 


lodged,  in  an  apartment  at  his  father's  ;  and  in 
this  feeble  and  emaciated  state,  walked  abroad, 
from  day  to  day,  looking  like  misery  personified, 
and  pouring  his  lamentations  into  the  ears  of  his 
friends  ;  who  were  happy  to  confer  those  little  acts 
of  kindness,  which  afforded  to  him  some  moment- 
ary consolation. 

During  this  period  of  unhoused  and  disconsolate 
wretchedness,  he  was  requested  by  the  "  Jockey 
Club,"  to  write  a  song  for  their  anniversary  din- 
ner ;  with  which  request,  he  readily  promised  to 
comply.  Day  after  day  elapsed  without  perform- 
ance, until  the  anniversary  came  round  ;  on  the 
morning  of  which,  a  gentleman  of  the  committee 
called  on  him.  He  said  he  had  two  verses  finished, 
which  did  not  suit  him  ;  a  sketch  of  a  third  verse  ; 
and  two  lines  of  another  ;  subjoining,  that  he  had 
neither  pen,  ink,  nor  paper,  nor  a  place  in  which 
to  write.  It  was  suggested,  that  a  ride  might  be 
of  service  to  him  ;  and  that  at  Medford,  the  scene 
of  the  races,  if  he  were  well  enough,  he  could  be 
furnished  with  the  necessary  implements  to  finish. 
To  this  proposition  he  assented.  In  some  degree 
revived  by  the  ride,  he  secluded  himself,  at  twelve 
o'clock  ;  remoulded  what  he  had  written  ;  and 
completed  the  song  in  a  short  time.  The  labour 
of  composition  had  so  exhausted  him,  that  he  was 
unable  to  dine  :  but  when  "The  Steeds  of  Apollo" 
was  sung,  he  came  into  the  room,  inspired  with 


BIOGRAPHY.  lXV 

new  life ;  and  during  the  evening,  he  was  uncom- 
monly brilliant  in  his  conversation  and  toasts. 
Being  congratulated  on  his  revival,  he  exclaimed, 
66  Richard  's  himself  again."  We  record  this  as 
the  last  festive  banquet,  at  which,  he  was  a  par- 
taker ;  a  scene,  in  which,  he  always  shone  ;  and 
which,  he  excessively  enjoyed,  when  seasoned 
with  wit,  and  tempered  with  hiliarity. 

The  next  day,  he  relapsed  into  his  usual  lan- 
guor, but  was  solicitous  to  have  his  song  correctly 
printed — the  last  earthly  solicitude  he  ever  ex- 
pressed. 

A  very  few  days  before  his  death,  when  he  was 
labouring  under  an  uncommon  degree  of  debility, 
he  observ  ed  to  a  friend,  that  he  had  little  expect- 
ation of  much  longer  surviving.  His  friend  replied, 
that  he  expected  soon  to  see  an  entire  edition  of 
his  works.  On  which  he  remarked,  « that  is  im- 
possible :  I  have  been  too  negligent  of  my  fame, 
in  not  publishing  under  my  own  eye; — God  knows 
who  will  do  it  now." 

The  disunion  of  his  family,  which,  in  his  infirm 
state,  deprived  him  of  his  accustomed  domestic 
comforts ;  and  the  seasonable  and  affectionate  atten- 
tion of  his  family,  evidently  preyed  upon  his  mind, 
and  hastened  his  dissolution. 

He  continued,  during  this  interval,  to  attend  the 
theatre,  as  usual : 

"  Such  was  his  ruling  passion,  strong  in  death." 


BIOGRAPHY. 

His  last  attendance  there,  was  on  Monday,  No- 
vember llth.  On  Tuesday,  he  prepared  himself 
to  go  abroad ;  but  his  mother  and  sisters,  perceiv- 
ing an  excessive  increase  of  his  infirmities,  laid 
their  affectionate  prohibition  upon  him.  He  re- 
paired to  an  attic  chamber  in  his  father's  house ; 
where  he  languished  till  Wednesday  evening, 
about  half  past  nine  o'clock,  when  he  expired,  in 
the  presence  of  his  family  and  friends,  with  so 
little  apparent  pain,  that  it  was  difficult  to  deter- 
mine the  precise  time,  when  the  last,  lingering, 
spark  of  life  forsook  his  mortal  remains. 

The  funeral  service  was  performed,  according  to 
the  congregational  mode,  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Lathrop, 
on  the  ensuing  Saturday ;  and  his  remains  were 
conveyed  to  the  family  tomb,  in  the  central  bury- 
ing ground,  attended  by  a  respectable  number  of 
the  most  distinguished  citizens. 


j_Mr.  Prentiss  had  contracted  to  write  the  Biography;  and  in  his 
absence,  and  while  the  press  was  waiting  for  the  residue  of  his 
copy;  at  the  request  of  the  Publisher,  Mu  SELFRIDGE  communi- 
cated the  subsequent  sheets,  to  conclude  the  Sketches  of  Mr.  Paine's 
life,  character,  and  writings.] 


BIOGRAPHY. 


MR.  PAINE  died,  in  his  thirty-eighth  year,  aud 
left  a  daughter  and  two  sons.  In  the  autumn  of 
1804,  an  endemiek  malady  swept  away  his  second 
and  third  children,  then  infants,  within  four  days 
of  each  other.  Immediately  after  the  demise  of 
Mr.  Paine,  his  father  invited  his  widow  and  chil- 
dren to  his  house,  where  they  continue  to  reside. 
This  seasonable  adoption,  will  he  long  and  grate- 
fully remembered,  by  the  children  of  humanity. 

Soon  after  Mr.  Paine's  death,  the  managers  of 
the  theatre,  upon  application,  liberally  granted  a 
night  for  the  benefit  of  Mrs.  Paine  and  her  children. 
Unavailing  efforts  were  made  to  obtain  the  benefit, 
exempt  from  the  customary  expenses  ;  but  the  op- 
ulent  proprietors  did  not  relinquish  their  rent! 
Encumbered  with  the  charges,  the  benefit  yielded 
a  profit  of  four  hundred  and  fifty  dollars. 

About  this  time,  the  "Jockey  Club"  enclosed  to 
Mrs.  Paine,  fifty  dollars  5  Mr.  Paine  not  having 
received  the  whole  sum,  which  it  was  intended  to 
confer,  for  "  The  Steeds  of  Apollo,"  written  for 
their  anniversary. 

When  Mr.  Paine's  immediate  dissolution  was 
pronounced  inevitable,  by  his  physicians,  his  friends 
consulted  MR.  STUART,  upon  the  practicability  of 
obtaining  his  portrait.  He  suggested,  that  a  cast 
of  the  face,  in  plaster,  would,  with  his  recollection 
of  the  countenance,  enable  him  to  furnish  a  faithful 
copy  of  the  original, 
10 


Ixvlii  BIOGRAPHY. 

The  possessors  of  great  talents  are  always 
friendly,  when  treading  different  walks.  In  the 
family  of  genius,  there  is  a  community  of  feeling. 
The  lyre  of  the  bard  might  have  been  strung,  to 
canonize  the  painter ;  but  the  great  Disposer  had 
otherwise  ordered.  The  pencil  of  the  painter, 
rivalling  the  inspiration  of  Orpheus,  has  recalled 
the  Poet  from  the  nations  of  the  dead ;  embodied 
his  mind ;  and  animated  the  canvass  with  his  liv- 
ing image. 

These  instances  of  posthumous  regard,  bestowed 
upon  the  memory  and  the  family  of  Mr.  Paine, 
savour,  neither  of  ostentation  nor  selfishness,  and 
are  recorded  with  sentiments  of  unmingled  pleas- 
ure. 

Having  consigned  Mr.  Paine  to  the  tomb,  it  is 
not  our  design, 

To  draw  his  frailties  from  their  dread  abode  ; 

but  it  will  be  our  endeavour  to  dispose  of  his  light 
and  shade,  in  a  manner,  to  afford  the  strongest 
relief  to  his  character. 

The  stature  of  Mr.  Paine  was  deceptive.  His 
height  was  five  feet,  nine  and  an  half  inches;  , 
although,  apparently,  not  more  than  five  feet,  eight 
inches.  His  bones  were  small ;  his  fibres  had  little 
tension  ;  and  of  course,  his  muscles  but  little  com- 
pactness. His  frame  and  movement  indicated  an 
absence  of  physical  power.  His  hair  was  sandy 


BIOGRAPHJ. 

and  his  complexion  light.  His  forehead  was  high, 
remarkably  wide,  and  clearly  defined.  His  eyes 
were  blue,  very  prominent,  but  inexpressive,  ex- 
cept when  he  was  strongly  excited  ;  and  his  nose 
was  of  the  common  size,  slender  and  angular.  His 
mouth  wras  large,  heavy,  and  sensual ;  and  his  lips 
possessed  an  uncommon  thickness,  which  extended 
to  a  considerable  distance  from  the  edges,  which 
were  not  uncommonly  protuberant.  The  lower 
part  of  his  face,  in  character,  furnished  a  striking 
contrast  to  the  upper ;  but  there  was  nothing  sin- 
gular in  its  formation.  The  tout  ensemble  was 
not  repulsive  ;  nor  could  it  be  said, 

Vultus  erat  multa  ac  praeclara  minantis. 

Mr.  Paine  attached  great  consequence  to  man- 
ners. This  sentiment  he,  probably,  early  imbibed 
from  the  Roman  Avriters,  who  had  no  discrimin- 
ating terms,  to  express  the  difference  of  import, 
annexed,  by  us,  to  morals  and  manners.  He  was 
modelled  upon  the  old  school.  Without  being 
familiar,  he  was  easy  among  friends,  and  courtly 
to  strangers.  In  colloquial  discussion,  he  rigidly 
adhered  to  the  law  of  politeness ;  and  in  mixed 
society,  he  neither  courted  the  high,  nor  avoided 
the  low*-  Distress  never  induced  him  to  solicit 
favours  from  those,  who  were  abundantly  able ; 
and  who,  probably,  would  have  been  willing  to  have 
conferred  them.  Had  this  salutary  principle  of 


LXX  BIOGRAPHY* 

pride  pervaded  liis  major,  as  it  did  his  minor  mor- 
als, it  would  have  rescued  him  from  ruin.  His 
composition  combined  the  most  striking  contrarie- 
ties; and  his  life  was  a  continued  illustration  of 
the  truth  of  one  of  his  own  couplets  ; — 

Nature  ne'er  meant  her  secrets  should  be  found ; 
And  man  's  a  riddle,  which  man  can't  expound. 

He  frequently  deplored  a  supposed  decay  of 
manners.  With  concern,  he  used  to  inquire,  "  In 
manners,  where  is  the  successour  of  GEX.  KNOX  to 
le  found?"  It  was  with  him  a  constant  topick  of 
complaint,  that  "  the  old,  genteel,  town  families, 
had  been  elbowed  out  of  house  and  home,  by  new- 
comers ;"  that  "  instead  of  the  polished  manners  of 
a  city,  we  should  soon  exhibit  that  growth  of  gen- 
tility, which  is  produced  by  ingrafting  dollars  upon 
village  habits  and  low  employments.  There  is  as 
wide  a  difference,"  said  he  "between  the  old  school 
and  the  new,  as  there  was  between  the  polished  ease 
of  the  reign  of  Augustus,  and  the  rude  turbulence 
of  the  epoch  of  the  Gracchi." 

In  the  varied  powders  of  conversation,  Mr.  Paine 
particularly  excelled.  With  the  operation  of  the 
passions ;  the  modes  of  artificial  life ;  and  the 
general  laws  of  human  nature ;  he  was  well  ac- 
quainted. He  had  learned  the  history  and  use  of 
those  branches  of  knowledge,  which  he  had  not 
attentively  cultivated.  This  not  only  answered 
the  purposes  of  oral  communication ;  but  of  poetic 


BIOGRAPHY. 

allusion  and  illustration.  He  had  scarcely  wit- 
nessed  a  scene,  from  which,  he  had  not  selected  a 
metaphor ;  drawn  a  simile ;  or  constructed  an  alle- 
gory. His  narration  conformed  to  the  canons  of 
criticism,  for  the  fable  and  structure  of  a  poem. 
He  rarely  confined  himself  to  a  dull  recital  of 
facts ;  but  interspersed  his  narrative,  with  pertinent 
reflections ;  adorned  it  with  brilliant  allusions ; 
and  frequently  indulged  in  animated  episodes, 
which  he  always  highly  embellished.  His  tran- 
sitions, 

From  grave  to  gay ;  from  lively  to  severe, 

were  rapid  and  unexpected.  When  kindled  by 
sympathy,  excited  by  collision,  or  roused  from 
opposition,  he  enlivened,  delighted,  and  aston- 
ished, for  successive  hours.  Once  engaged,  he 
was  an  electric  battery;  approach  him,  and  he 
scintillated ;  touch  him,  and  he  emitted  a  blaze. 

We  will  select  a  few  instances  of  that  sponta- 
neous flow  of  thought,  which  was  "  wont  to  set 
the  table  on  a  roar."  He  rarely  quitted  a  conviv- 
ial party,  without  having  said  some,  perhaps  many 
things,  as  memorable  as  any  which  are  recollected. 

When  the  opposition  to  the  erection  of  the  the- 
atre was  overcome,  he  remarked,  "  The  Vandal 
spirit  of puritanism  is  prostrate  in  New -England." 
The  first  time  that  he  dined  at  his  father's,  after 
their  reconciliation,  his  toast  was  requested,  and 
he  gave,  "  The  love  of  liberty,  and  the  liberty  of 


BIOGRAPHY. 

loving."  There  was  an  alarm  of  fire,  when  he  was 
playing  whist,  at  Concert  Hall.    A  gentleman  ob- 
served, that  the  fire  was  near  Dr.  Lathrop's,  as 
there  was  a  luminous  reflection  from  the  steeple 
of  his  meeting-house.     Without  the  least  diversion 
from  his  game,  he  said,  "  The  splendour  of  the 
church  always  depends  upon  the  distress  of  the 
citizen."  A  volume  of  ecclesiastic  history,  in  a  sin- 
gle sentence  !  A  client,  of  Titanian  size,  was  in  his 
office  ;  his  visage  was  dark,  furrowed,  and  shining 
with  perspiration.     When  he  retired,  Paine  ex- 
claimed, "  That  fellow's  countenance  is  the  eastern 
aspect  of  the  Mps,  at  sunrise  ; — alternate  splendour 
and  gloom  ; — ridges  of  sunshine  and  cavities  of 
shade."     In  a  political  discussion,  which  was  con- 
ducted with  warmth,  he  said,  of  the  Essex  Junto, 
"  Washington  was  its  sublime  head,  and  the  tower 
of  its  strength  ;  it  was  informed  by  the  genius,  and 
guided  by  the  energy  of  Hamilton.     Since  their 
decease,  nothing,  but  the  attic  salt  of  Fisher  Jlmes, 
has  preserved  it  from  putrefaction.     When  the 
ethereal  spirits  escaped,  the  residuum  settled  into 
faction.     It  has  captured  Boston,  and  keeps  it  in 
tow,  like  a  prize  ship."*    Dining  one  day,  with  a 

*Not  to  make  an  apology,  but  to  exonerate  Mr.  Paine,  from 
a  momentary  vaccillation  in  his  political  principles,  we  would 
observe,  that  this  remark  was  made  in  the  summer  of  1 80^, 
after  the  attack  of  the  British  ship  of  war,  Leopard,  upon  the 
American  frigate,  Chesapeak.  At  this  period,  certain  jour- 
nalists, essayists,  and  pamphleteers,  against  the  most  clearly 


BIOGRAPHY.  Ixxili 

friend,  some  of  whose  guests,  he  fancied,  treated 
him  with  disrespect;  he  was  resolved  upon  revenge, 
before  the  separation  of  the  company.  When  he 
had  dined,  he  monopolized  the  table,  by  com- 
mencing a  dissertation  upon  Juvenal  and  his  sat- 
ires, with  some  pointed  applications  to  the  persons 
and  characters  of  those  whom  he  wished  to  punish. 
The  stream  flowed  uninterruptedly.  The  obnox- 
ious individuals,  soon  retired  from  a  table,  where, 
after  dining,  they  were  neither  pleased  nor  edified. 
When  he  perceived,  that  they  were  gone,  he  ex- 
claimed, with  an  air  of  triumph,  "  I  have  made 
these  s;reat  men,  so  sensible  of  their  littleness,  that 
they  cannot  endure  it."  In  a  small  party  of  friends, 
religion  became  the  subject  of  discussion.  The 
internal  and  historical  evidences  of  revelation, 
were  enforced  with  great  ingenuity  and  eloquence 
by  Mr.  Paine.  His  adversary,  if  not  convinced, 
was  overwhelmed ;  and  after  a  moment's  pause, 
petulantly  propounded  this  question  :  "  If  you  are 

defined  rights  of  their  own  country,  united,  in  vindication  of 
the  aggression  of  the  British  commander.  The  minister  of 
foreign  relations,  at  St.  James',  hastened  to  disavow  the,  act ; 
the  king,  from  his  throne,  disavowed  it  to  his  parliament ;  and 
the  British  Government  have  since  made  atonement  for  the 
outrage.  If  the  atonement  had  been  accorded,  as  a  matter  of 
strict  right,  unincumbered,  with  "  the  spontaneous  bounty  of 
his  majesty,"  in  the  pitiful  provision  for  the  families  of  the 
deceased,  Mr.  Madison  would  not  have  disgraced  his  country, 
by  accepting  it.  The  royal  bounty  accepted,  as  a  healing 
plaster,  for  the  bruised  honour  of  America  ! 


BIOGRAPHY. 


vso  strenuous  a  believer,  Sir,  why  don't  you  attend 

public  worship  ?"  This  abrupt  departure  from  the 

main  question,  could  not  have  been  anticipated  ; 

but  Mr.  Paine  instantaneously  replied,  "  Religion, 

Sir,  does  not  consist  in  forms  ;  nor  do  I  believe, 

that  imests  are  oracles.     The  lily,  or  the  glow- 

worm, furnishes  higher  evidence  of  the  being  and 

attributes  of  the  Deity,  than  all  the  tomes  of  the, 

Christian  fathers.     The  universe  is  vocal  with  the 

Maker's  praise  ;  and  1  prefer,  like  the  primitive 

Christians,  to  worship  in  a  temple,  not  made  with 

hands."   A  gentleman  of  some  literary  pretensions, 

was  the  reputed  editor  of  two  periodical  papers, 

the  Emerald  and  the  Ordeal,  which  went  down,  at 

no  distant  period  from  each  other.     Ignorant  of 

this  fact,  a  literary  stranger  inquired  of  Mr.  Paine, 

"  what  rank  this  gentleman  held  among  the  liter- 

ati?" Paine  answered,  "  He  possesses  the  greatest 

literary  execution  of  any  man  in  America.     Two 

journals  have  perished  under  his  hands,   in  six 

months  !"  We  have  introduced  as  much  variety, 

in  these  selections,  as  their  number  would  admit. 

In  the  latter  years  of  Mr.  Painc's  life,  his  con- 

versation, in  some  degree,  changed  its  character. 

He  was  less  brilliant,  and  more  didictic.     The 

Drama,  literature,  metaphysics,  and  theology,  were 

his  favourite  subjects  ;  but  he  frequently  ranged. 

the  regions  of  science, 

Far  as  the  solar  "walk,  or  milky  way. 


BIOGRAPHY.  1XXV 

In  all  companies,  he  was  a  decided  foe  to  vul- 
garity and  indecency.  Had  some  companion, 
like  Bos  well,  been  diligent  in  compiling  the 
fragments  of  his  conversation,  volumes  might  have 
been  composed,  not  inferiour,  in  splendour  and 
strength,  to  much,  which  has  been  gleaned  from 
the  British  Socrates.  His  pen  opened  the  quarry, 
but  his  tongue  gave  a  lustre  to  the  diamond. 

In  his  early  years,  Mr.  Paine  was  a  diligent 
and  systematic  student ;  and  what  was  once  ac- 
quired, was  never  forgotten.  Upon  unimportant 
dates  and  trivial  incidents,  he  never  dissipated  atten- 
tion. He  had  committed  to  memory,  but  few  long 
passages,  even  from  his  favourite  authors  ;  but  the 
essence  of  a  book,  which  he  had  once  read,  never 
escaped  the  keen  grasp  of  his  mind.  He  possessed 
the  rare  gift  of  "  an  intellectual  digestion,  that 
concocted  the  pulp  of  learning,  and  refused  itg 
husks,"  in  a  degree,  which  falls  to  the  lot  of  but  few. 

To  his  collegiate  attainments,  in  the  languages, 
we  have  already  adverted.  To  these,  he  added  a, 
knowledge  of  the  French,  competent  to  read  it® 
writers  with  fluency.  In  philosophy,  geography, 
philology,  history,  metaphysics,  and  criticism,  he 
was  well  versed ;  in  chymistry  and  medicine,  he 
was  also  a  considerable  proficient.  Few  topics  of 
conversation  could  be  introduced,  upon  which,  he 
was  unable  to  make  a  brilliant  display ;  and  no 
man  ever  enjoyed  a  more  singular  felicity  in  the 
11 


BIOGRAPHY. 

command  of  his  powers.  Ovid,  Juvenal,  Cicero, 
and  Quintilian,  were  the  Romans,  with  whom  he 
held  the  "  sweetest  communion."  He  was  per- 
fectly conversant  with  the  British  classics ;  but 
Shakespeare  and  Dry  den  were  the  household  gods 
of  his  muse. 

The  reading  of  his  latter  years  was  extremely 
desultory  ;  but  he  seized  every  new  fact  and  prin- 
ciple with  avidity,  and  inalienably  appropriated 
them  to  the  stock,  already  reposited  in  his  own 
inexhaustible  magazine.  He  was  singularly  con- 
scious of  the  transitory  events  of  the  living  world ; 
and  had  an  intuitive  knowledge  of  stage  effect,  as 
well  in  the  Drama  of  reality,  as  in  the  humble 
scenes  of  mimic  exhibition.  He  could  predict  with 
accuracy,  the  success  of  a  play  and  the  issue  of  a 
campaign,  the  turmoils  of  the  green-room  and  the 
agitations  of  the  republic.  To  those,  with  whom 
he  was  most  intimate,  the  march  of  his  mind,  in 
its  various  acquisitions  "  amidst  inconvenience  and 
distraction,  in  sickness  and  in  sorrow,"  was  a 
matter  of  wonder  and  surprise. 

Under  the  tuition  of  his  great  master,  Mr.  Paine 
cultivated,  with  assiduity  and  success,  the  elements 
of  his  profession,  and  the  subtle  science  of  special 
pleading.  Probably,  no  student  had  ever  acquired 
a  more  ready  precision  of  technical  expression,  or 
had  better  imbued  his  mind  with  legal  forms.  Few 
could  have  been  more  demonstrative  in  forensic 


BIOGRAPHY.  IXXVU 

argument  and  in  the  regions  of  eloquence,  none 
could  have  wheeled  his  flight  upon  a  bolder  wing. 
Prompted  by  an  ambition  to  shine,  in  his  earliest 
assays  at  the  bar  of  the  Common  Pleas,  he  cited 
Horace  to  the  court,  and  explained  positions  to  the 
Jury,  by  mythological  allusions  ;  but  experience 
soon  taught  him,  that  classical  learning  was  an  ill- 
assorted  commodity,  for  the  market  in  which  he 
exposed  it. 

In  politics,  Mr.  Paine  was  a  disciple  of  the  old 
federal  school.  He  understood  the  constitution, 
as  Washington  administered,  and  as  Hamilton  had 
expounded  it.  He  was  an  advocate  for  the  prac- 
tical circumscription  of  state  sovereignties,  and  was 
invariably  opposed  to  state  interferences  in  national 
legislation.  He  said,  when  Virginia  pronounced 
the  alien  and  sedition  laws  unconstitutional,  "This 
won't  do — it  is  taking  the  bolt  from  the  hand  of 
the  thunderer."  His  "  Rule  New  England," 
written  many  years  ago,  and  his  "Arouse,  Arouse, 
Columbia's  Sons,  Arouse,"  written  for  the  4th  of 
July,  1811,  evince  a  striking  contrast.  One  is 
local,  the  other  national.  If  popular  songs  produce 
effect,  the  tendency  of  the  sentiments  of  the  former, 
is  to  dismember,  and  of  the  latter,  to  cement  the 
union.  Ardent  patriotism  was  the  predominant  pas- 
sion of  his  heart ;  and  he  traced  the  rising  glories 
of  his  country,  in  the  brightest  visions  of  fancy. 


BIOGRAPHY. 


Of  his  religious  opinions,  we  can  speak  with 
confidence.  In  "The  Nature  and  Progress  of 
Liberty/'  in  his  commendation  of  Mayhew,  who 
first  dissolved  the  religious  spell,  that  hound  New 
England,  hy  vindicating  the  right  of  private  judg- 
ment, it  may  he  perceived,  that  he  had  laid  the  foun- 
dation of  free  thinking.  In  early  life,  the  fanatic 
Atheism  of  France,  decorated  in  all  the  meretri- 
cious charms  of  eloquence  and  philosophy,  took  a 
transient  possession  of  his  mind.  He,  however, 
soon  abjured  the  comfortless  tenets  of  his  new 
creed  ;  seriously  examined  the  Evidences  of  Chris- 
tianity ;  and  died  in  the  belief  of  the  religion  of 
his  fathers. 

A  general  coincidence  of  opinion,  has  induced 
us  to  extract  Mr.  Paine's  character,  as  an  author, 
from  the  prospectus  to  his  works. 

"  Of  Mr.  Paine,  as  an  author,  we  cannot  speak 
in  terms  of  unmingled  praise.  His  verse,  indeed, 
seldom  loiters  into  prose  ;  but  it  must  be  confessed, 
that  his  prose  is  here  and  there  "tricked  and 
frounced,  till  it  outmantles  all  the  pride  of  verse." 
His  numbers  are,  perhaps,  never  feeble  or  fault- 
ering,  but  a  wild  and  frolic  imagination,  occasion- 
ally, wantons  through  his  periods,  and  sometimes 
displays  itself  in  contemning  the  chaster  elegancies, 
and  sometimes  in  neglecting  the  severer  decencies 
of  thought  and  diction. 


BIOGRAPHY. 

"Yet,  notwithstanding  the  few  and  scattered 
passages,  to  which  the  prudery  of  criticism  may 
except,  the  prose,  as  well  as  the  verse  of  Mr. 
Paine,  will  always  be  regarded,  as  invigorated 
with  the  "  authentic  fire"  of  a  bold  and  fervid 
genius.  His  faults  of  style  and  sentiment  must 
stand  as  the  proofs,  for  they  are,  unquestionably, 
the  effects,  of  a  great  mind,  failing  in  great  attempts. 
Like  his  favourite,  Dryden,  Mr.  Paine  delighted 
in  those  bursts  of  enthusiasm,  which  are  great  and 
striking  in  themselves,  and  appeal  to  the  heart, 
with  a  power  which  awakens  and  absorbs  the  whole 
passion  of  admiration,  perhaps  for  no  other  or  bet- 
ter reason,  than  merely  because  they  disdain  and 
defy  the  maxims  of  Aristotle. 

"  Such  are  his  defects  ;  but  the  excellencies  of 
Mr.  Paine  are  sufficient  to  atone  for  all  his  offences, 
even  if  they  were  infinitely  more  frequent  and  fla- 
grant against  good  taste  and  sober  criticism.  Of 
these  excellencies,  the  most  prominent,  and  that 
to  which  we  would  direct  the  attention  of  every 
reader,  is  the  high  and  holy  strain  of  morality  and 
patriotism,  which  breathes  through  his  writings, 
like  a  response,  whispering  out  the  fates,  from  the 
shrine  of  Apollo.  With  this  spirit,  his  prose,  as 
well  as  his  verse,  is  largely  informed.  It  charms, 
in  his  earlier  efforts  :  it  delights  and  astonishes,  in 
the  productions  of  his  riper  years.  His  patriotism 
never  foams  itself  out  in  frothy  professions ;  his 


1XXX  BIOGRAPHY. 

morality  never  loses  its  serene  and  cheerful  dig- 
nity, by  descending  to  humour  the  whims  of  the 
fickle,  or  mimic  the  airs  of  the  thoughtless.  Such 
was  his  reverence  for  virtue,  that  the  virgin's 
cheek,  while  reading  his  page,  cannot  redden  to  a 
blush:  his  affection  for  his  natal  soil  was  such, 
that  his  country,  as  some  faint  requital  of  his  grat- 
itude, ought  always  to  boast  of  his  fame,  as  of  one, 
among  the  living  lights  of  her  own  untarnished 
glory. 

"  Upon  Mr.  Paine's  scrupulous  observance  of 
the  laws  of  English  Prosody,  as  settled  by  Dryden 
and  Pope,  on  his  exact  rhymes,  his  happy  allu- 
sions, his  brilliant  imagery,  and  all  his  other  and 
subsidiary  accomplishments  as  an  author,  it  were 
easy  to  enlarge.  But  to  those  who  cherish  the 
hope  (is  it  a  fond  or  an  idle  hope  ?)  of  seeing  one 
of  their  countrymen  taking  his  place,  not  by  the 
courtesy  of  the  present  age,  but  by  the  full  and 
consentient  suffrage  of  posterity,  on  the  same  shelf 
with  the  prince  of  English  rhyme,  enough  has 
already  been  said." 

To  speak  of  Mr.  Paine  as  a  man  ; — hie  labor, 
hoc  opus  est.  In  his  intercourse  with  the  world, 
Ms  earliest  impressions  were  rarely  correct.  His 
vivid  imagination,  in  his  first  interviews,  under-, 
valued,  or  overrated  almost  every  individual  with 
whom  he  came  in  contact ;  but  when  a  protracted 
acquaintance  had  effaced  early  impressions,  his 


BIOGRAPHY. 


judgment  recovered  its  tone,  and  no  man  brought 
his  associates  to  a  fairer  scrutiny  ;  or  could  delin- 
eate their  characteristics  with  greater  exactness. 

Nullius  addictus  jurare,  in  verba,  magistri  ; 

and  when  he  had  once  formed  a  deliberate  opinion, 
without  a  change  of  circumstances,  it  is  not  known 
that  he  ever  renounced  it.  Studious  to  please,  he 
was  only  impatient  of  obtrusive  folly,  impertinent 
presumption,  or  vicious  speculation.  His  friend- 
ships were  cordial,  and  his  good  genius  soon  rec- 
tified the  precipitance  of  his  enmities.  To  con- 
flicting propositions,  he  listened  with  attention  ; 
heard  his  own  opinions  contested,  with  compla- 
cency ;  and  replied  with  courtesy.  No  root  of 
bitterness  ever  quickened  in  his  mind.  If  injured, 
he  was  placable  ;  if  offended,  he 

.  ............................  Shewed  a  hasty  spark, 

And  straight  was  cold  again. 

Parcere  subjectis  et  debellare  superbos, 
was  in  strict  unison  with  the  habitual  elevation 
of  his  feelings.  Such  services,  as  it  was  in  his 
power  to  render  to  others,  he  performed  with  manly 
zeal  ;  and  their  value  was  enhanced,  by  being  gen- 
erally rendered,  where  they  were  most  needed  ;  and 
through  life,  he  cherished  a  lively  gratitude  towards 
those,  from  whom  he  had  received  benefits.  His 
mind  was  inaccessible  to  the  tribe  of  malignant 
passions,  which  so  frequently  disfigure  literary  his- 
tory ;  he  hailed  every  young  author,  as  a  brother; 


UIOGRAPMA 


and  every  candidate,  aspiring  to  fame,  found  in  him 
an  ardent  and  an  unremitting  supporter.  No  man 
was  ever  more  perfectly  purified  from  the  taint  of 
avarice,  or  more  sincerely  respected  and  reverenced 
the  amiable  and  heroic  virtues  in  others.  Yet  indo- 
lence, wine,  and  women,  have  erased  his  name 
from  the  calendar  of  the  saints.  To  the  stern 
justice  of  this  decision,  we  bow  in  sorrowful  ac- 
cordance ;  but  let  us  impartially  examine  the  cir- 
cumstances, in  mitigation,  as  well  as  those,  which 
coutervail  the  effect  of  the  sentence,  if  not  reverse 
the  judgment.  He  sensibly  felt,  and  clearly  fore- 
saw, the  consequences  of  the  continuous  indulgence 
of  his  habits,  and  passed  frequent  resolutions  of 
reformation  ;  but  daily  embarrassments  shook  the 
resolves  of  his  seclusion,  and  reform  was  indefi- 
nitely postponed.  He  urged/  as  an  excuse  for 
delaying  the  Herculean  task,  that  it  was  impossi- 
ble to  commence  it,  while  perplexed  with  difficulty 
and  surrounded  with  distress.  Instead  of  rising 
with  an  elastic  power,  and  throwing  the  incumbent 
pressure  from  his  shoulders,  he  succumbed  under 
its  accumulating  weight,  until  he  became  insuper- 
ably recumbent  ;  and  vital  action  was  only  precari- 
ously sustained,  by  administering  "  the  extreme 
medicine  of  the  constitution,  for  its  daily  food." 

If  those,  who  ascend  Parnassus,  experience  a 
keenness  of  pleasure,  which  none  but  poets  know, 
it  is  to  be  presumed,  that  they  experience  a  keen- 
ness of  sorrow,  which  none  but  poets  feel.  In 


BIOGRAPHY. 


genius,  there  is  not  only  an  inherent  haughtiness, 
which  frequently  disdains  the  maxims  of  vulgar 
prudence  ;  but  it  has  been  contended,  that  in  the 
poetic  temperament,  there  is  some  intractable  qual- 
ity, practically  at  variance  with  moral  discretion. 
However  this  may  be,  it  is  a  general  truth,  that 
these  ethereal  spirits,  in  their  journey  to  the  stars, 
have  had  but  a  sorrowing  pilgrimage  in  the  nether 
world.  But  we  will  relinquish  hypothesis  and 
recur  to  fact. 

Mental  labour  induces  lassitude  of  body  and  a 
disinclination  to  exertion.  When  these  are  accom- 
panied by  illness,  the  stoutest  resolution  is  ap- 
palled. How  can  those  affirm,  whose  sails  have 
always  been  prosperously  filled,  that,  if  their  lives 
had  been  cheated  by  hope,  and  chequered  by 
misfortune,  like  his,  they  should  have  uniformly 
refrained  from  "  physical  aid  for  their  moral  con- 
solation ?"  Driven  into  scenes,  for  society,  where 
virtue  does  not  always  wear  her  most  forbidding 
aspect,  what  mortal  can  affirm,  that  he  should  have 
steadfastly  preserved  his  stoical  austerity  ?  In 
conversation,  Mr.  Paine  was  always  the  champion 
of  good  principles,  and  we  believe,  that  he  has 
written  no  couplet,  which  a  moralist  would  wish 
to  blot.  An  example,  so  pregnant  with  misery, 
cannot  be  contagious  ;  indeed,  the  example  of  any 
private  individual, 

His  time  a  moment,  and  a  point  his  space., 


BIOGRAPHY. 

fc. 

cannot  be  of  wide  influence  or  of  long  duration, 
compared  with  the  imperishable  relicks  of  the 
mind.     The  statesman,  who  has  served,  and  the 
hero,  who  has  bled  for  his  country,  live  in  their 
own  great  actions,  to  inspire  unborn  ages,  and 
posterity  consecrates  their  memories,  without  a  pre- 
vious inquest,  as  to  their  temperance  or  chastity. 
It  is  immaterial,  to  the  present  generation,  whether 
the  discoverer  of  the  mariner's  compass,  or  the 
inventor  of  the  art  of  printing,  lived  morally  or 
sensually.      If  irregularity  of  life  overshadowed 
their  fame  for  a  season,  they  have  since  emerged 
from  the  cloud,  in  a  blaze  of  glory,  which  has 
dispelled  the  mist,  and  will  convey  their  names  to 
the  end  of  time,  as  the  most  illustrious  benefactors 
of  the  human  race.    The  writer,  however  he  lived, 
who  impregnated  his  compositions  with  high  prin- 
ciples of  moral  action,  and  sublime  sentiments  of 
patriotism :  and  who  wrote  popularly  enough  to 
be  read,  and  splendidly  or  profoundly  enough  to 
endure,  is  a  witness,  testifying  from  the  grave — 
an  advocate  from  the  world  of  spirits,  in  the  cause 
of  morality.     He  has  lighted  a  vestal  fire,  in  the 
temple  of  virtue,  and  will  officiate  at  her  altars, 

Until  the  last  and  dreadful  hour, 
This  crumbling  pageant  shall  devour; 
The  trumpet  shall  be  heard  on  high  ; 
The  dead  shall  live — the  living  die. 

Boston^  Sefit.  1,  1812. 


TRIBUTARY  LINES, 

TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  THE  LATE 

EGBERT  TREAT   PAINE,  JUN.  ESQ. 


MONODY 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF 


JIOBERT  T.  PAINE,  JUN.  ESQ. 


JVLouRN  we  the  Brave,  whose  days  are  past; 

Whose  gallant  deeds,  in  war,  are  o'er ; 
When  dark,  in  fury,  swept  the  blast, 

They  fell  to  save  their  native  shore  ? 

Mourn  we  the  fall  of  beauty's  flower, 

Gay,  fragrant,  fresh ;  whose  glowing  charms 

Bloom'd  through  the  morning's  modest  hour, 
Then  sunk  in  summer's  sultry  arms. 

And  shall  our  Bard,  unsung,  expire, 

In  cold  neglect,  unhonor'd  lie, 
Who  struck  his  high,  heroic  lyre, 

\Vith  fancy's  holiest  ecstacy  ? 

Bright  was  his  youth — the  playful  muse 
Breath'd  on  his  infant  lips  her  flame, 

And,  ere  he  caught  her  dazzling  hues, 
The  votary  wildly  dream'd  of  fame. 

Ne'er  was  a  nobler  spirit  born, 

A  loftier  soul,  a  gentler  heart ; 
Above  the  world's  ignoble  scorn, 

Above  the  reach  of  venal  art; 


Ixxxviii  MONODY. 

Genius  was  his ;  whose  various  rays 
Illum'd  with  joy  the  social  hours, 

Or  pour'd  a  full,  impetuous  blaze 
Through  all  the  Poet's  magic  powers. 

Nor  less  his  daring  spirit  sought 

The  depths  of  learning's  ancient  store  ; 

Or  paus'd  o'er  nature's  secret  thought, 
Or  soar'd  in  fame's  sublimer  lore. 

But  most  shall  friendship  love  to  trace 
The  scenes,  with  liberal  mirth  entwin'd ; 

What  streams  of  wit !  what  flowing  grace  ! 
What  sparkling  sense !  what  cloudless  mind* 

Oft  has  declin'd  the  midnight  star, 
Yet  seem'd  the  parting  hour  too  near ; 

And  oft  the  breezy  morn,  afar, 

Caught  the  loud  laugh,  or  generous  tear. 

But  all  is  past — beneath  the  sod 
Low  lies  the  Poet's  weary  head : 

His  grief-worn  soul  has  rest  in  God ; 
Bright-rob'd,  in  glory,  ere  it  fled. 

Nor  bitter  be  the  tears,  that  flow 
In  silence  round  his  wintry  urn ; 

Still  friendship's  breast  shall  warmly  glow, 
Still  love  with  holy  reverence  mourn. 

When  sleep  the  Brave — 'tis  honour's  sleep ; 

When  falls  the  Bard,  his  brilliant  doom 
Age  after  age  shall  memory  keep, 

And  chase  the  darkness  from  his  tomb. 

The  dreams  of  wealth  shall  pass  away, 
Nor  leave  a  wreck  of  thought  behind ; 

But  deathless,  GENIUS,  is  thy  sway, 
The  immortal  triumph  of  the  mind. 


The  following  Tributary  Lines  appeared  in  the  "  Charleston  Courier," 
soon  after  the  death  of  MR.  PAINE* 


"  Resound,  ye  hills,  resound  my  mournful  lay." 

W  EEP  now,  ye  Muses,  let  your  sorrows  flow, 
For  PAINE,  the  pride  of  minstrelsy,  lies  low ; 
Ye,  who  inspired  his  ever  tuneful  breath, 
Could  not  secure  him  from  the  shafts  of  death. 

His  harp  is  broken,  and  his  lyre  unstrung, 
Who  Moore's  triumphant  death  and  glory  sung  ; 
And  he,  Who  deck'd  with  laurel  valor's  tomb, 
Now  rests,  alas  I  with  Moore,  in  kindred  gloom. 

If  wit  or  genius  had  the  power  to  save 
Their  great  possessor  from  the  darksome  grave ; 
Your  much-lov'd  offspring's  loss  we  should  not  mourn, 
Nor  moisten,  with  our  tears,  his  funeral  urn. 

Who  his  deserted  station  can  supply, 
And  fill  the  foremost  ranks  of  Poesy  ? 
Vain  is  th*  attempt  our  sorrows  to  restrain. 
For  we  shall  never  view  another  PAINE. 

For  every  noble  quality  renowned, 
And  with  the  choicest  gifts  of  Nature  crowned : 
Shall  not  his  strains  succeeding  Bards  inspire, 
And  stamp  their  works  with  more  than  mortal  fire. 

Yes ;  while  the  noble  fame  of  Moore  shall  last, 
Not  scandal's  breath,  nor  envy's  withering  blast, 
Shall  dare,  with  impious  power,  attack  his  name, 
Or,  from  his  memory,  snatch  the  wreaths  of  fame. 


COLUMBIA'S  BARD. 

W  HERE  yon  willow's  boughs  entwining 

Cast  a  shadow  o'er  the  plain, 
In  her  classic  shades  reclining, 
Science  mourns  the  loss  of  PAINE. 

Columbia's  Bard ! 
O'er  his  tomb  the  muses  weep, 
Where,  shrin'd  in  earth,  his  ashes  sleep  I 

Never !  shall  his  tuneful  numbers 

Charm  the  list'ning  ear  again  ! 
Cold  and  silent,  where  he  slumbers, 
Genius  weeps  the  fate  of  PAINE. 

Columbia's  Bard  1 
«  Son  of  Song  !"  thy  lay  is  o'er, 
The  festive  hall  resounds  no  more ! 

"  To-morrow  may  the  trav'ler  come, 

He,  who  has  heard  the  Poet's  strain, 
His  foot  may  press  the  grassy  tomb," 
Unconscious  'tis  the  bed  of  PAINE. 

Columbia's  Bard ! 

Hark  !  the  hollow  night-breeze  sighs, 
Where,  wrapped  in  death,  the  Poet  lies ! 

Haste  thee,  Spring !  to  deck  thy  bowers, 

Bid  young  Beauty  dress  the  plain ! 
Let  thy  fairest,  sweetest  flowers, 

Wreathe  around  the  tomb  of  PAINE. 

Columbia's  Bard  ! 

May  he,  who  bears  his  father's  name, 
Possess  his  genius !  merit  all  his  fame  I 


THE 


WORKS 


OF 


R.  T.  PAINE,  JUN.  ESQ. 


PART  I. 


JUVENILE      POEMS 


Consisting  chiefly  of 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES, 


6  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Yet  simple  numbers,  unrefined  by  art, 
Here  paint  the  warm  effusions  of  the  heart. 
The  lettered  bigot,  with  sarcastick  phlegm, 
And  lifeless  system,  may  the  song  condemn ; 
But  let  proud  criticks  frown,  whene'er  I  sing, 
JTis  not  to  them  I  tune  my  vocal  string ; 
If  my  harsh  notes  disgust  your  nicer  ear, 
Avert  your  heads,  ye  are  not  forced  to  hear. 
While  I  adventure  on  the  sea  of  song, 
Propitious  Learning  wafts  my  bark  along ; 
Yet  see,  at  Candour's  throne  the  suppliant  sues, 
In  the  low  accents  of  the  lisping  muse. 


An  uudevout  astronomer  is  mad." 

YOUNG. 


^Written  JVbr.  17,  1790.]. 

BRIGHT  is  the  sun-beam,  smiling  after  showers ; 
Sweet  are  the  pleasures  of  the  rural  groves, 
When  pearls,  unnumbered,  deck  the  morning  grass  ; 
But  sweeter  still  the  joys  of  evening  walk, 
Brighter  the  glories  of  the  unbounded  God.1 

Hail,  sacred  eve,  thy  presence  sweet  I  woo, 
Where  pensive  Solitude,  with  rambling  feet, 
Strays  through  thy  dusky  groves,  to  view  the  works 
Of  heaven's  high  King ;  or,  sunk  in  rapture's  trance, 
With  silent  Gratitude  delights  to  hear 
Nature's  soft  harp,  "  the  musick  of  the  spheres," 
Which  chant  in  endless  notes  Jehovah's  praise  ! 

Come  then,  sweet  nymph,  thy  mildest  breath  impart, 
To  swell  the  youthful  muse's  artless  reed ;  * 
Faintly  to  echo,  with  unskilful  trill, 
One  note  of  Nature's  universal  song. 

The  sun,  fatigued  with  his  diurnal  course 
Through  heaven's  high  summit,  sunk  to  soft  repose  ; 
The  Zephyrs,  loaded  with  the  rich  perfumes 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Of  yon  tall  hill,  in  gay  luxuriance  clad, 

Whispered  invitement*  to  the  bower  of  joy, 

And  by  the  ambrosial  presents,  which  they  brought, 

Urged  their  request,  and  won  my  willing  soul.4 

To  the  fair  spot  I  rove ;  a  devious  way 

In  many  wanderings  leads  me  to  the  height. 

Along  its  brow  a  shaggy  ridge  of  rocks, 

High  towering,  keeps  the  distant  fields  in  awe, 

Enhedged5  with  flowers,  and  shrubs,  and  vines,  and  thorns, 

Which  in  luxuriant  confusion  grew.6 

Deep  boiling  o'er  the  top  from  confluent  springs, 
A  river  rolls  adown  the  sloping  hill ; 
From  the  high  rocks  the  dashing  current  leaps 
In  one  broad  sheet,  till,  spreading  by  degrees, 
The  white  foam  flashes  o'er  the  pointed  crags, 
Which  with  continual  rage  embroil  its  waves ; 
Now  whirl  in  eddies,  now  in  loud  cascades 
Roll  the  vexed  current ;  while  with  rapid  speed 
Waves  crowd  on  waves,  to  escape  the  rocks,  and  gain 
The  peaceful  harbour  of  the  quiet  vale. 

How  short  this  ever  varying  scene  of  life  I 
How  troubled  too  with  woes  !  Thus  down  the  stream 
Of  cares,  perplexities,  distress  and  wants, 
As  waves  on  waves,  so  generations  crowd. f 
See,  the  vain  bubble,  floating  down  the  surge, 
From  yon  bright  cloud  a  purple  tincture  draws ; 
But  mark  yon  rock  ;  its  beauties ;  they  are  fled  1 
Thus  wrecked,  shall  vanish  all  the  world  calls  great ; 
Not  all  his  purple  can  protect  the  king. 
The  busy  world,  and  all  the  joys  it  boasts, 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Where  harpy  Care  and  Disappointment  reign* 

Are  like  the  billows  of  the  troubled  sea ; 

While  calm  Content  and  Solitude,  sweet  pair, 

Like  the  soft  lustre  of  Hesperian  day, 

E'er  sweetly  smile  to  lure  us  from  the  storm. 

When  sin  disturbed  the  peace  of  Eden's  bowers, 

And  man,  degenerate,  to  her  banners  fled ; 

All-bounteous  Heaven,  although  provoked  to  wrath, 

Sent  these  fair  visitants  with  exiled  man, 

To  guide  him  in  the  paths,  which  lead  to  peace. 

Here  then  they  come  !  Their  silent  tread  I  hear.9 

God  to  their  smiles  creative  power  has  given, 

For  here  they  smile,  and  second  Eden  blooms. 

The  gilded  roof,  the  regal  dome  they  fly, 

And  here  with  mild  Philosophy  retreat. 

To  shady  grots,  where  Contemplation  reigns, 

They  lead  the  heavenly  pensive  maid ;  'tis  here 

That  purest  happiness  delights  to  dwell. 

Can  he,  who  hi  these  solitary  seats 

Retired,  enjoying  philosophick  ease  ; 

Can  he,  whose  study  and  delight 's  to  scan 

The  laws,  which  regulate  the  starry  world, 

Be  so  infatuate,  as  to  think  that  Chance, 

Presiding,  held  the  sceptre  of  the  sky, 

Gave  Nature  birth,  and  linked  in  one  great  chain 

Creation's  scale,  from  angels  to  the  worm  ? 

Dun  night  her  sable  curtain  draws  around. 
And  with  diffusive  darkness,  far  and  near, 
Burying  the  cot,  the  palace,  and  the  tower, 
Calls  Reason's  eye  from  objects  here  below. 
To  trace  the  wonders  of  the  spangled  sky. 
2 


10  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Far  as  the  eye  can  sweep  in  utmost  range, 

Where  spheres  on  spheres  in  bright  confusion  roll, 

Where  swift  Philosophy  with  towering  speed 

Extends  her  wings,  and  from  the  blazing  height 

Of  Sirius  descries  more  distant  worlds ;  *  ° 

These  are  thy  wonders,  great  Jehovah  ;  these,1  * 

As  all  their  various  orbits  they  perform, 

Speak  forth  thy  majesty  and  endless  praise. 

The  mighty  pillars  of  the  universe, 

The  ethereal  arch,  with  starry  curtains  hung, 

Thy  hands  have  made ;  through  the  stupendous  frame 

Loud  hallelujahs  and  hosannas  sound, 

Wafting  thy  glory  to  unnumbered  worlds, 

In  Nature's  language,  understood  by  all. '  2 

Yet  though  to  us  unbounded  these  may  seem, 

Throned  on  the  height  of  thy  omnipotence, 

Thou  look'st  abroad  with  all  discovering  eye, 

And  all  creation  far  beneath  thee  rolls. 

"Tis  thou,  who  check'st  in  mid  career  the  storm,1 3 

Which  on  the  wings  of  furious  whirlwinds  sweeps ; 

When  battling  clouds,  in  horrid  ruin,  crush, 

And  their  pent  wrath  in  bursting  lightnings  pour. ' 4 

When  raging  winds,  from  jEolus  released, 

From  its  foundations  heave  the  boiling  deep, ' 5 

And  heaven-topped  waves  in  liquid  mountains  rise, 

And  leave  old  ocean's  dark  recesses  dry  ; 

Thou  smils't ;-— the  main  subsides,  to  smile  with  thee.1 

When,  in  the  car  of  wrath,  thou  thunderest  forth 
To  scour  the  nations  with  aftlictive  rod ; 
Hefore  thy  chariot  wheels,  self  rolling,  flies1 7 
Pale  Awe,  and  strikes  the  universe  with  dread. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  11 

The  tall  hills  tremble,  and  the  valleys  rise ; 

Guilt's  tottering  knees  in  mad  distraction  beat} 

And  the  rent  poles  re-echo  with  thy  voice. 

One  angry  look  from  thee  would  cause  the  world 

To  dwindle  into  nought ;  one  wrathful  word 

The  universal  edifice  to  fall,1 8 

And  its  high  columns  moulder  into  dust. 

What  soul  but  quakes,  when  thy  deep  thunders  roll, 
Or  starts  affrighted,  when  thy  lightnings  fly  ? 
The  astonish'd  earth  confesses  power  divine, 
And,  trembling,  owns  the  presence  of  its  God. 
Shall  not  devotion  then,  with  early  day 
Enkindling,  glow,  nor  at  the  setting  sun, 
Man,  thy  own  offspring,  praise  thy  glorious  name  ? 
Forbid  it,  heaven,  that  he  again  should  sin 
Against  the  light  of  all  your  brilliant  orbs, 
And  be  expelled  from  earth's  unblest  abode, 
An  Eden,  sure,  compared  to  hells  below  ! 

Can  there  exist  a  son  from  Adam  sprung, 
How  abject  e'er  from  native  dignity, 
Or,  hi  the  vale  of  ignorance  remote 
From  the  bright  sunshine  of  the  learned  world, 
Who  but  uplifts  his  eye  to  yon  bright  vault, 
Views  all  the  glories,  which  emblaze  the  pole, 
And  doubts,  one  moment,  their  Creator's  power  \ 
All  nature  's  vocal  with  the  voice  of  God ; 
From  sphere  to  sphere  Jehovah's  name  resounds ; 
E'en  savage  Indians,  with  untutored  souls, 
"  See  God  in  clouds,  and  hear  him  in  the  winds." 


12  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

If  then  one  high  Supreme  presides  o'er  all 
As  he.  who  is  not  deaf  to  Nature's  voice, 
Can't  but  confess  ;  who  then  can  be  so  mad, 
As  to  refuse,  to  that  omniscient  Power, 
Devotion,  due  to  his  omnipotence  ? 
And  in  rebellion  rise  against  his  arm, 
Whose  breath  created,  and  enlivens  nature  ? 
The  soul  of  man,  too  feeble  to  endure 
The  vile  transgression,  shudders  at  its  sig 


But  there  are  such,  who  in  the  moral  world 
With  genius  blest,  by  fostering  wisdom  nursed? 
Who  oft  have  ranged  the  illimitable  sky, 
In  vain  conception  of  some  selfish  end, 
Nor  given  to  God  the  glory  of  his  skill. 
With  vain  idolatry  and  frenzy  fired, 
They  reach  the  utmost  verge  of  mortal  ken, 
Nor  once  perceive  the  features  of  a  God 
In  wide  magnificence  illumine  all. 
They  see  the  grand  machine  unvarying  roll, 
Nor  once  discern  the  arm,  that  moves  the 
In  "  light  ineffable,"  they  soar  aloft, 
But  stain  its  purity  writh  blackest  crime. 
Recoiling  Reason  startles  at  the  deed, 
And  Nature's  self,  with  indignation  fired, 
Blushes  to  view  her  own  perversity. 


Dark  night  with  deepening  gloom  draws  on  apace 
The  russet  groves  no  trembling  zephyr  moves ; 
In  majesty  ascends  night's  brilliant  queen; 
The  lengthened  shades  o'er  every  field  extend,, 
\nr\  li^ht,  promiscuous,  beautifies  each  sccnev 
f 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  13 

Hard  by  the  murmurs  of  the  chrystal  stream, 
A  sudden  voice  I  hear ;  amazed  I  stand, 
Catch  every  sound,  and  still  the  voice  returns ! 

Behold  a  sage  advancing  through  the  groves, 
The  moonbeam  trembling  on  his  silver  locks. 
Again  I  listen,  but  his  voice  has  ceased  ! 
Time's  ruthless  hand  with  wrinkles  knit  his  brow ; 
A  long  white  beard  descended  from  his  chin ; 
A  sudden  awe  thrills  through  my  every  limb ; 
He  stops,  abrupt,  beside  a  purling  stream, 
Where  chaste  Diana  kissed  the  silver  wave. 
Fair  in  the  azure  chambers  of  the  east, 
His  raptured  eyes  beheld  the  radiant  maid  ; 
The  spangled  constellations  of  the  heavens, 
Lost  in  surprise,  astonishment,  he  viewed ; 
"  These  are  thy  works,  eternal  Father  ;  thine 
w  Nature's  great  altar  of  unceasing  praise, 
"  Raised  in  the  temple  of  unbounded  space  1 
w  Blest  be  that  God  who  smiled  upon  my  birth, 
"  Who  sent  a  guardian  angel  from  the  sky 
"  To  snatch  me  from  the  wreck,  which  threats  the  world, 
w  Amid  these  lone  retreats,  to  range  the  stars, 
"  Those  gems,  that  with  unsullied  lustre  shine, 
"  To  grace  the  crown  of  high  Omnipotence." 
He  ceas'd  ;  his  lips  in  faltering  silence  hung ; 
But  silence  spoke,  devotion  was  not  dumb. 
The  tear  of  gratitude  gush'd  from  his  eye, 
And  the  pure  transport  melted  all  his  soul. 

Hail,  bright  Philosophy,  thy  pages  ne'er- 
Could  boast  a  fairer  dignity  to  man ! 


14  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Of  morals  pure,  and  of  a  heart  sincere, 

In  him  the  virtues,  all  resplendent,  shone. 

"  Yon  river,"  spoke  the  sage,  "  which  foams  along, 

"  Its  waves  perplexed,  by  craggy  rocks  enraged, 

u  Points  to  my  eye  the  picture  of  the  world, 

u  Where  care  corrodes  all  happiness  below. 

"  From  the  tumultuous  scenes  of  worldly  strife, 

"  Where  pride's  gay,  tinsel  train,  in  fashion's  sun, 

"  Bask  like  the  butterfly,  a  day  to  charm, 

"  To  these  green  bowers,  and  rural  groves  I  came, 

"  And  sought  retirement  hi  her  native  shade. 

"  The  heaven  which  mortals  vainly  seek  below, 

"  In  earthly  gew-gaws,  and  in  princely  state, 

"  May  here  be  found,  if  earth  a  heaven  produce. 

"  By  contemplation  led,  we  walk  on  high ; 

"  And  here  by  fond  anticipation  taste 

<<  That  bliss,  which  virtue  shall  hereafter  crown. 

"  While  Nature's  laws  direct  the  starry  world, 

"  And  mortals  think  they're  wise  if  skill'd  in  these, 

"  Let  sages,  more  contemplative,  unite, 

"  To  adorn  mankind,  the  virtues  to  display, 

"  Those  stars,  which  glitter  in  the  moral  sky. 

"  The  voice  of  Nature  is  the  voice  of  praise  ; 

"  Yon  orbs  but  shine,  our  gratitude  to  raise." 

He  ceas'd ;  for  admiration  then  began, 
And  honoured  with  a  tear  the  pride  of  man. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 


SACRED  TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  BOWDOIN. 


"  Pallida  mors  <xquo  pede  pulsat pauperum  tabernas, 
"  Regumque  turres."  HOR.  4th  ode,  1st  book. 

Death's  dread  decrees  must  be  obeyed ; 

Grim  king,  inexorably  just ! 
That  arm,  which  strikes  the  humble  shed, 

Levels  the  palace  with  the  dust. 


[Written  Feb.  23,  1791.] 

PALE  is  the  mournful  eye  of  setting  day ; 

The  gloomy  fields  in  weeds  of  woe  appear ; 
O'er  the  dim  lawn  dread  horror  bends  his  way, 

And  solemn  silence  bids  the  mind  revere. 

Beneath  thick  glooms  the  distant  landscape  fades;1 
The  sad  moon  weeps  o'er  yon  funereal  ground ; 

Hark  !  the  dull  rippling  stream  the  ear  invades ; 
The  soul,  wild  staring,  startles  at  each  sound ! 

What  ghastly  phantoms  round  me  seem  to  rise  ! 

With  this  just  lecture  on  their  tongues  they  come  ; 
In  yonder  spot  Fame's  great  colossus  lies  j 

A  BOWDOIN  moulders  in  the  humble  tomb  !2 

How  short  the  fleeting  hour  assigned  to  man ! 

To  Virtue's  nobler  charge  the  task  is  given, 
Beyond  the  grave  to  extend  the  narrow  span, 

And  gain  a  blest  eternity  in  heaven. 


J6  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Yes,  'tis  a  glorious  truth,  that  man,  refined 
From  all  the  impurities  of  sordid  clay, 

No  more  an  exile  on  vile  earth  confined^ 
Shall  shine  amid  the  stars  of  endless  clay. 

Hark  !  the  sad  voice  of  death,  with  solemn  sound, 
Calls  from  their  distant  caves  the  sleeping  gales ! 

The  gales  with  sighs  the  awful  voice  resound,3 
And  tears  of  grief  bedew  the  echoing  vales 

Across  the  fields  see  heavenly  Virtue  stray ; 

Philosophy,  dejected  at  her  side, 
And  Love  celestial  bend  their  pensive  way, 

And  give  free  vent  to  grief's  impetuous  tide  i 

Mid  the  dark  melancholy  walks  of  death, 
Towards  a  stately  monument  they  rove  ; 

And  hang  on  the  tomb  their  votive  wreath, 
A  wreath  with  mingled  honours  fondly  wove.4 

From  realms  of  purest  happiness  they  flow, 

To  adorn  the  grave  where  their  dear  votary  slept 

The  world  they  found  suffused  in  tears  of  woe, 
And  feeling  for  its  loss  in  pity  wept. 

Around  the  tomb  the  heavenly  spirits  stand, 
In  all  the  plaintive  eloquence  of  grief; 

"  Here  rest  in  peace,  thou  patriot  of  thy  land, 

"  Sage  of  the  world,  and  Virtue's  darling  chief !" 

a  Let  spring  immortal  o'er  thy  ashes  bloom ; 

"  To  thee  let  earth  the  laurelled  wreath  resign  ; 
"  The  ivy  and  the  olive  deck  the  tomb  ; 

"For  valour,  eloquence,  and  peace  were  thine  !" 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  17 

a  Well  may  thy  friends  bedew  thy  hallowed  urn, 

"  Ambition  weep,  despairing  of  thy  fame  ; 
"  Well  may  thy  country  o'er  thy  relicks  mouni, 

u  And  wondering'  earth  immortalize  thy  name." 

Weep  o'er  the  grave,  which  BOWDOIN'S  dust  entombs ; 

In  him  such  splendid  traits  their  charms  unite, 
Like  the  bright  lamp,  which  heaven  and  earth  illumes, 

He  shone  the  sun  of  philosophick  light !  * 

In  him  the  patriot  virtues  all  combined ; 6 
In  him  was  Freedom's  voice  divinely  heard ; 

Soft  grace  and  energy  adorned  his  mind, 
And  constellated  excellence  appeared. 

How  oft  have  senates  on  his  accents  hung, 
And  viewed  the  blended  powers  of  genius  meet, 

In  flowing  musick,  melting  from  his  tongue, 

Strong,  without  rage,  and  without  flattery,  sweet.  * 

When  Massachusetts'  patriot  sages  met,8 

To  snatch  from  fate  their  country's  falling  name, 

His  arm,  like  Jove's,  upreared  the  sinking  state, 
And  raised  a  pillar  in  the  dome  of  fame. 

His  noble  soul  no  selfish  motive  fired ; 

His  country's  glory  was  his  godlike  aim ; 
In  danger  prudent,  resolute,  admired ; 

And  every  action  but  enhanced  his  fame. 

Beneath  his  friendly  wing  the  muses  found 

A  father,  smiling  on  their  infant  lyre ; 
There  Art  and  Science  were  with  bounty  crowned, 

And  Learning  owned  a  BOWDOIN  for  her  sire. 
3 


18  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

In  him  rejoiced  the  sons  of  want  and  grief; 

From  him  the  streams  of  social  friendship  ran ; 
With  generous  pity,  and  with  kind  relief, 

He  traversed  life  in  doing  good  to  man. 

O'er  life's  broad  sea  he  spread  his  full  blown  sail, 
Secure  amid  wild  faction's  stormy  roar ; 

By  wisdom  guided,  caught  the  flying  gale, 
And  gained  the  port,  eternal  glory's  shore. 

Justly  to  celebrate  his  deathless  praise, 

No  muse,  like  ours,  can  string  her  grateful  lyre : 

Nor  even  Pindar  such  bold  notes  could  raise, 
Nor  to  the  sun  on  waxen  wings  aspire. 

When  in  the  field  resistless  Hector  met, 
To  express  he  conquered,  we  but  say  he  fought ; 

Suffice  it  then  the  ear  of  fond  regret, 

To  tell  that  BOWDOIN  always  nobly  thought. 

Sprung  from  a  race,  to  nought  but  virtue  born, 
Advanced  by  industry  to  pomp  and  state  ; 

Yet  he,  beholding  these  with  eyes  of  scorn, 
Rose  above  fame,  and  dared  be  truly  great. 

Long  have  we  hoped  kind  Temperance  would  wield, 
To  guard  her  favourite,  her  defensive  arms ; 

Around  his  honoured  life  would  spread  her  shield, 
And  long  secure  him  by  its  potent  charms. 

But,  ah  !  fallacious  hopes  !  Oh  sweet  deceit ! 

Dear,  flattering  dream,  which  partial  Fancy  wrought 
Tn  Friendship's  loom,  who,  with  fond  pride  elate, 

Viewed  the  rich  texture  of  illusive  thought  I 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  19 

Imperial  Reason,  weeping  o'er  his  fate, 

Hurled  from  her  empire,  rules  his  breast  no  more. 

Where  is  that  voice,  which  saved  a  falling  state, 

Which  charmed  the  world,  and  taught  e'en  foes  t'  adore  ? 

When  wintry  time's  tempestuous  billows  roar, 

O'er  the  dark  storm  Death  spreads  his  horrid  wings ; 

Swept  are  proud  empires  from  the  foaming  shore, 
And  beggars  mingle  in  one  grave  with  kings. 

Where  are  the  splendours  of  the  Attick  dome  ? 

Where  haughty  Carthage,  towering  to  the  sky  ? 
Where  the  tall  columns  of  imperial  Rome  ? 

In  the  vile  dust,  where  pride  is  doomed  to  lie. 

Bow  DO  IN,  the  glory  and  delight  of  all, 
The  prince  of  science,  Misery's  feeling  friend, 

Bedecked  with  blooming  honours,  too  must  fall, 
And  to  the  mansions  of  the  grave  descend. 

Could  human  excellence,  with  power  sublime, 
Charm  from  barbarian  Death's  destructive  hand 

The  ruthless  scythe  of  all  destroying  Time, 
BOWDOIN  were  still  the  senate  of  the  land. 

But  greatly  smiling  in  his  latest  breath, 
Like  Phoebus  blazing  from  his  western  throne, 

His  soul,  unconquered,  through  the  clouds  of  death 
More  radiant  beamed,  and  more  divinely  shone. 

Ye  mournful  friends,  suppress  the  bursting  tear ; 

BOWDOIN  is  gone  his  native  skies  to  claim : 
Forgive  the  youth,  who,  weeping  o'er  his  bier, 

In  this  fond  verse  inscribes  his  sacred  name. 


20  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 


"Know  then  thyself;  presume  not  God  to  scan; 
<(  The  proper  study  of  mankind  is  man." 

POPE'S  Essay  on  J\fan. 

[Written  March  23,  1791.] 

BLEST  be  the  sage,  whose  voice  has  sung, 
And  to  the  world  such  counsel  given  ! 

Sure  'tis  an  angel's  warning  tongue, 
The  language  of  benignant  Heaven ! 

When  first  in  Eden's  roseate  bowers, 
Gay,  youthful  Nature  held  her  throne, 

Around  her  tripped  the  blithesome  Hours, 
And  all  the  Loves  and  Graces  shone.1 

Celestial  Virtue  saw  the  dame, 

Enthroned  amid  her  joyful  band, 
And  glowing  with  Affection's  flame, 

He  blushed,  he  sighed,  and  asked  her  hand.  * 

Struck  with  his  tall,  majestick  form, 

His  rosy  cheek,  his  sparkling  eye, 
Her  breast  received  a  strange  a/arm, 

And  unsuppressed,  returned  the  sigh, 

At  Hymen's  shrine  no  vows  are  paid, 
For  mutual  love  their  hearts  unites ; 

Carols  were  sung  from  every  shade, 
And  Eden  echoed  with  delights,* 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  21 

At  length,  their  pleasures  to  complete, 

Fair  Happiness  their  amours  blest ; 
Gay  was  her  form,  her  temper  sweet, 

And  mildest  charms  adorned  her  breast ; 

Mild  as  the  bosom  of  the  lake, 

When  Zephyr  from  the  western  cave4 
Dares  not  the  level  chrystal  break, 

And  breathes  a  perfume  o'er  the  wave. 

But  joy  on  eagle  pinions  flies ; 

Thus  oft  in  June's  resplendent  morn, 
When  golden  lustre  paints  the  skies, 

Thick  lowering  clouds  the  heavens  deform.* 

Beneath  the  earth's  dark  centre  hurled, 

Where  on  their  grating  hinges  groan 
The  portals  of  the  nether  world, 

Apostate  Vice  had  raised  her  throne. 

A  spirit  of  angelick  birth ; 

But  blemished  now  with  blackest  stains, 
Degraded  far  below  the  earth, 

To  realms,  where  endless  darkness  reigns. 

Far  from  his  ebon  palace  strayed 

This  fiend  to  earth  with  giant  pace  ; 
His  eyes  a  lurid  frown  displayed, 

And  horror  darkened  all  his  face. 

Through  Eden's  shady  scenes  he  roves ; 

A  sweetly  warbling  voice  he  hears ; 
When,  lo,  beneath  the  distant  groves, 

Nature  in  sportive  dance  appears  ! 


22  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

He  saw,  he  gazed  with  rapture  warm, 
Resolved  to  gain  the  fair  one's  heart ; 

His  haggard,  foul,  disgusting  form, 
He  decks  in  all  the  charms  of  art. 

His  face,  o'erclouded  late  with  gloom.. 
His  limbs,  in  tattered  garb  arrayed, 

Assumed  the  flush  of  youthful  bloom, 
The  pomp  of  regal  robes  displayed. 

Dazzling  with  gems,  a  crown  he  bore ; 

'Twas  grace  his  easy  motions  led ; 
A  gentle  smile  his  features  wore, 

And  round  a  sweet  enchantment  spread. 

From  his  smooth  tongue  sweet  poison  flowed 
Fair  Innocence,  her  careless  heart 

Decoyed,  forsook  her  native  road, 
Lost  in  the  wilderness  of  art. 

Sad  tears  and  bosom-rending  sighs 

The  mournful  nymph  pours  forth  in  vain  j 

Vain  are  the  streams  of  Sorrow's  eyes, 
To  wash  away  the  crimson  stain. 

Hopeless  she  wandered  and  forlorn, 
In  bitterest  woe  ;  her  plaintive  tale 

Was  heard,  the  echo  of  the  lawnj 
And  the  sad  ditty  of  each  gale. 

While  thus  she  roved  in  deep  disgrace, 
Her  bosom  torn  with  conscious  shame, 

An  infant  from  the  foul  embrace 
Is  born,  and  Misery  is  her  name.  ' 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  23 


Her  eyes  emit  a  haggard  glare  ; 

Her  mien  a  savage  soul  expressed ; 
With  grim  Medusa's  snaky  hair ; 

And  all  the  father  stood  confessed. 

The  groves,  which  once,  in  green  array, 
The  admiring  eye  attentive  kept, 

]No  more  appeared  in  verdure  gay ; 
And  Eden's  fading  beauties  wept.* 

Pale  was  the  sun,  with  clouds  obscure ; 

Wild  Lamentation  mourned  in  vain 
To  cleanse  the  soul,  with  guilt  impure, 

And  reinstate  the  golden  reign. 

Beauty 's  a  flower  of  early  doom. 
Exposed  to  all  the  intrigues  of  art ; 

For  when  is  lost  its  tender  bloom, 
The  thorn  is  left,  a  bleeding  heart. 

Triumphant  Vice  to  his  drear  courts 
Returns  to  rule  the  infernal  plains ; 

There  Misery  with  her  sire  resorts, 
To  forge  for  man  her  torturing  chains. 

But  Virtue,  to  redeem  the  earth, 
In  Eden  opes  his  tranquil  seats ; 

Asylum  safe  of  injured  worth, 

Here  Happiness  with  him  retreats  I9 

Vjrtue  and  Vice^  with  clashing  sway, 
The  empire  of  the  world  divide  j 

Vice  oft  deludes  the  feet  astray, 
But  Virtue  is  the  surest  guide. 


24  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Vice,  in  whose  form  no  grace  is  seen, 
Assumes  detested  Flattery's  guise  ; 

Veils  in  a  smile  her  hideous  mien, 
And  captivates  weak  mortal  eyes. 

While  Virtue,  in  each  beauty  decked, 

In  spotless  purity  arrayed, 
Our  wandering  footsteps  would  direct, 

But  blinded  man  disdains  his  aid. 

Severe  Experience  soon  will  learn l  * 
The  stubborn  bosom  to  repent ; 

The  opened  eyes  too  late  discern, 
What  they  must  then  in  vain  lament. 

But  see  a  kind  deliverer  rise ! 

Her  feeling  breast  Compassion  warms, 
To  purge  this  film  from  mortal  eyes, 

And  strip  delusion  of  its  charms. 

Behold  Self-Knowledge  quits  the  skies  ! 

IthuriePs  magick  spear  she  bears ; 
From  her  approach  pale  Error  flies, 

And  all  the  mind's  dark  host  appears.1 1 

Disrobed  of  all  his  borrowed  plumes, 
Gay  Vice  no  more  the  eye  allures  ; 

While  Virtue's  native  lustre  blooms, 
And  with  its  charms  the  soul  secures. 

The  wreath  of  once  triumphant  Vice 
Now  withers  on  his  languid  head ; 

No  more  his  guiles  the  world  entice, 
For,  with  his  fraud,  his  charms  are  fled. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  25 

Ye,  whose  excursive  souls  pretend 

The  Almighty's  boundless  power  to  scan ; 

Whose  thoughts  against  the  heavens  contend* 
Nor  stoop  to  earth  to  think  on  man ; 

Who,  like  the  lion  in  his  cave, 

Or  eagle  on  his  rocky  height, 
With  swelling  pride  austerely  grave, 

Frown  modest  Virtue  from  your  sight ; 

Who  proudly  view  with  scornful  eyes 

The  tender  scenes  of  social  love ; 
Contemning  Friendship's  dearest  ties ; 

The  imps  of  self-dependent  Jove ; 

Hear,  learned  fools :  When  life  shall  end, 

Like  the  light  cinders  of  a  scroll, 
Will  stars  or  spheres  from  heaven  descend, 

To  comfort  your  desponding  soul  ? 

Virtue  alone  can  smooth  the  brow 

Of  haggard  Death  with  smiles  of joy j 
Persuasive  lead  the  sons  of  woe 

To  pleasures,  which  can  never  cloy. 

Be  Virtue  then  by  all  caressed ! 

Virtue  the  glooms  of  life  will  cheer ; 
With  eye  impartial  search  thy  breast, 

While  Virtue  lends  a  listening  ear. 


26  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 


"Homo  sura ;  huraani  nihil  a  me  alienum  puto." 

TERENCE,  Heaut 

I  am  a  man,  and  interested  in  all  the  concerns  of  humanity. 
[Written  April  13,  1791.] 

JL  E,  who  enjoy  the  bliss  of  social  ease, 
Who  drink  the  sweets  of  Freedom's  passing  breeze, 
Taught  by  your  fortune,  learn,  with  generous  mind, 
To  soothe  the  woes,  and  feel  for  all  mankind. 

While  Pride/s  imperial  sons  in  splendour  vie, 
And  with  a  meteor  glare  delude  the  eye  j 
While  bold  Ambition  copes  for  deathless  fame, 
That  tinsel  glitter  of  a  glorious  name ; 
Behold  the  generous  soul,  who  feels  for  man, 
The  great  adherent  to  the  Saviour's  plan, 
In  the  dark  cell  of  languid  woe  appear, 
And  the  sad  heart  with  smiling  bounty  cheer ; 
Or  in  the  cruel  dungeon's  dreary  shade, 
Where  stem  Oppression  fettered  millions  laid, 
Hear  his  mild  voice  amid  the  lurid  gloom, 
Recall  the  fleeting  spirit  from  the  tomb  ! 

Sweet  are  the  pleasures,  that  from  love  arise ; 
Sweet  the  warm  rapture,  when,  with  eager  eyes. 
And  swelling  with  the  gairish  hopes  of  youth, 
Young  genius  springs  to  clasp  a  long  sought  truth ; 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

But  more  extatick  joys,  those  scenes  impart, 
When  flowing  from  a  warm  and  grateful  heart, 
The  sweet  eulogiums  of  relieved  distress 
The  generous  heart  with  pleasing  transport  bless. 
Hail,  kind  Philanthropy,  thou  friend  of  earth, 
Creation's  mildest,  fairest,  noblest  birth  ! 
Bright  are  thy  features,  as  the  blush  of  even, 
And  more  complacent  than  the  smile  of  heaven. 
Sweet  is  the  musick,  which  thy  voice  distils, 
As  the  soft  murmurs  of  the  purling  rills ; 
More  gladly  echoed  through  Misfortune's  ear, 
Than  the  blithe  carols  of  the  vernal  year. 
Benignant  parent  of  the  tear  and  sigh  ! 
Heaven-born  Benevolence,  whose  gracious  eye. 
By  pity  fired,  the  blandest  smile  bestows, 
That  cheers  this  gloomy  scene  of  mortal  woes. 

When  savage  Nature  her  dominion  kept. 
And  each  mild  Virtue  in  oblivion  slept, 
Then  pale  eyed  Misery  and  Oppression  rose, 
And  plunged  mankind  adown  the  abyss  of  woes. 
Dire  Rage  and  War  around  the  nations  strode. 
And  Havock  grimly  smiled  o'er  seas  of  blood. 
The  dearest  ties  of  love  were  stained  with  gore, 
And  Peace  and  Friendship  ruled  the  world  no  more. 

The  sprightly  virgin  in  her  tender  bloom, 
Torn  from  her  lover's  arms,  by  cruel  doom, 
With  tears  of  anguish,  trickling  from  her  eyes, 
O'er  his  dear  marble  bids  the  cypress  riso. 


28  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Stript  of  the  solace  of  their  aching  hearts, 
Those  tender  ties,  which  social  love  imparts^ 
See  hoary  sires,  around  the  funeral  bier, 
In  silent  sorrow  drop  the  mournful  tear  ! 
Brutal  barbarians,  with  stern  pride  elate, 
Trampling  on  every  right  of  civil  state  ; 
Traitors  to  every  law  of  gracious  Heaven, 
By  Nature's  voice  to  all  her  children  given  ; 
Unfeeling  monsters,  tyranny  their  creed, 
Who  never  blushed  but  at  a  virtuous  deed, 
With  wanton  fuiy  kept  the  world  in  awe  ; 
Their  sword  was  justice,  and  their  nod  was  law. 


But,  to  relieve  the  miseries  of  man, 
Benevolence  on  earth  her  reign  began. 
Of  heavenly  birth  the  virgin  goddess  shone, 
And  all  the  virtues  hovered  round  her  throne. 
But  scarce  the  precepts  of  her  friendly  tongue, 
To  hostile  realms  the  sweets  of  peace  had  sung. 
And  strove  with  warm  persuasion  to  control 
The  warring  passions  of  each  barbarous  soul ; 
When,  lo,  a  monster  from  his  Stygian  cave 
Laid  the  mild  virgin  in  the  silent  grave. 
?Twas  Persecution,  whose  dread  right  hand  bore 
A  flaming  faulchion,  wet  with  human  gore. 
Detested  Bigotry,  (oh  foul  disgrace  !) 
And  blinded  Ignorance,  of  monkish  race, 
To  this  blood'thirsty,  hellish  fiend  gave  birth, 
Who  with  such  miseries  scourged  the  groaning  earth. 
Cursed  be  the  bigot,  whose  religious  light 
Comes  through  the  medium  of  a  jaundiced  sight ! 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Lo,  Superstition  fills  the  papal  throne, 
And  guiltless  victims  at  her  footstool  groan  1 
Lo,  Death  proscribes  each  disbeliever's  head ; 
See,  on  the  rock  their  tortured  limbs  are  spread  ; 
Their  strained  nerves  tremble  to  each  mangling  bloir; 
Hark,  the  soul-piercing  shrieks  of  dying  woe  ! 
Stroke  follows  stroke  until  they  move  no  more, 
And  streams  o"f  blood  gush  out  from  every  pore. 

Yet  in  the  storm  of  this  tempestuous  time, 
When  Superstition  fostered  every  crime  j 
When  servile  priests  pronounced  with  impious  tongue; 
Nor  understood  the  jargon  which  they  sung  ; 
When  Romish  bigots,  who  made  nations  bleed, 
Knew  not  the  letters,  which  composed  their  creed ; 
E'en  then,  in  Albion's  soil,  a  glorious  few, 
To  virtue's  cause,  to  freedom's  interest  true, 
With  anxious  toil  preserved  from  total  night 
Mild  toleration's  feebly  glimmering  light. 
But  short,  alas,  her  empire  in  the  land, 
Where  factious  nobles  bear  supreme  command  ! 

As  the  faint  splendour  of  the  solar  beam. 
When  vapours  intercept  the  golden  stream, 
Emits  through  thin,  transparent  clouds  a  blaze, 
Which  on  some  distant  spire  in  triumph  plays ; 
But  while  the  eye  admires  the  partial  ray, 
The  pale  and  watery  lustre  melts  away ; 
Thus  transient,  all  the  milder  virtues  fled, 
And  kind  Compassion  veiled  her  tender  head. 
Till  true  Religion,  with  that  magick  power, 
Which  bade  old  Ocean's  billows  cease  to  roar. 


30  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Benevolence  raised  from  her  mouldering  tomb, 
And  bade  new  laurels  on  her  brow  to  bloom. 

All  hail,  Columbia ;  to  thy  western  skies, 
Where  sacred  Freedom's  lofty  temples  rise, 
The  virgin  goddess  bends  her  azure  flight, 
On  the  fleet  pinions  of  diffusive  light ! 
She  comes,  with  love's  fervescent  rays  t'  illume 
The  vale  of  woe,  and  cheer  its  awful  gloom ; 
To  snatch  mankind  from  the  cold  arms  of  Death, 
And  reinspire  with  being's  transient  breath. 

But,  ah !  will  ye,  who  fought  in  Freedom's  cause, 
To  die  in  battle,  or  defend  her  laws ; 
Will  ye,  when  Fortune  has  your  efforts  crowned, 
And  deathless  laurels  round  your  temples  bound ; 
Will  ye,  such  bold  achievements  now  disgrace, 
Nor  grant  your  freedom  to  all  human  race  ? 
Shall  the  poor  Africk  blot  your  rising  fame, 
And  sue  for  freedom  with  neglected  claim  ? 
In  the  dark  cell,  where  anguish  turns  with  pain 
His  tortured  limbs,  indented  with  the  chain, 
See  ^Ethiopia's  sons,  because  the  day 
Upon  their  skin  has  glanced  too  warm  a  ray 
From  social  joy,  from  their  dear  native  land, 
By  Fraud's  ungenerous  artifice  trepanned, 
Far  to  the  west  o'er  swelling  surges  borne, 
In  slavish  toil  a  life  of  woe  to  mourn  ! 
Blush,  blush,  vile  despots,  who,  for  lucre's  sake, 
Through  every  natural  bond  of  freedom  break  ! 
Although  with  honour  crowned,  Columbia's  name 
JVlay  sound  eternal  through  the  trump  of  Fame ; 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  31 

Though  shouting  millions  her  new  system  boast, 

By  Solons  planned,  t'  unite  her  jarring  host ; 

Yet  while  the  Africk  clanks  Oppression's  chain, 

And  these  unfeeling,  brutal  tyrants  reign, 

Though  decked  with  all  the  splendid  charms  of  state, 

Her  blemished  character  can  ne'er  be  great. 

Hail  glorious  sera,  when  the  genial  rays 
Of  mild  Philanthropy  in  one  broad  blaze 
Shall  round  the  world  benignant  lustre  dart, 
And  warm  the  haughty  tyrant's  frozen  heart, 
When  Africk's  millions  shall  to  freedom  rise, 
And  with  loud  rapture  rend  the  yielding  skies ; 
Columbia's  eagle  then,  with  wings  unfurled, 
Shall  shadow  with  its  plumes  the  subject  world. 


The  following  lines  are  from  a  theme,  partly  in  prose  and  partly  in  verse,  on 
"Humanum  est  errare." 


[Written  August  24,  1791.] 

V  ICE  lives  coeval  with  the  age  of  time, 

A  Syren  form,  enchantress  half  divine.1 

Before  yon  sun,  in  youthful  splendour  clad, 

Illumed  with  sportive  beams  the  new-born  earth  ; 

Before  the  planets  round  their  reverend  sire 

Through  Heaven's  wide  plains  performed  their  mystick  daix'r '. 

Even  then  among  the  sapphire  thrones  of  God. 

Skilled  in  Egyptian  herbs  and  magick  lore. 


32  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

The  nymph  bewitching  came  ;  her  tuneful  voice. 
Sweet  warbling,  drew  the  thronging  seraphs  round ; 
And  while  they  seemed  delighted  with  the  song, 
The  artful  traitress,  with  Circassian  smile, 
Gave  the  full  bowl  of  poison  to  their  lips  ; 
They  quaffed  ;  and  soon  perceived  its  magick  power 
x  Invade,  inveigle,  and  subdue  their  souls. 

Thus  by  her  perfidy  betrayed,  they  fell 
Down  the  dark  dungeon,  of  Almighty  wrath, 
Where  flames  sulphureous  flash  a  livid  glare, 
And  ravenous  vultures  on  their  vitals  prey, 
Which  undiminished  grow,  nor  aught  consume  ; 
Thus  an  eternity  of  years  to  groan, 
Cursing  in  penal  fire  the  treacherous  wretch, 
Who  led  /their  daring  spirits  to  rebel. 

When  thus  her  power  innumerous  saints  subdued, 
To  earth  she  came,  and  in  the  breast  of  man 
Instilling  poison  sweet,  and  lawless  wish 
To  rob  the  central  tree  of  Paradise, 
Drove  him,  an  exile  from  the  realms  of  joy. 
O'er  earth's  wide  plains,  inhospitable  wilds, 
Where  crags  menace  defiance  to  the  sky; 
Through  forests,  deepened  with  Carpathian  gloom, 
Where  midnight  deaths  in  secret  ambush  lie ; 
O'er  scenes  like  these,  writh  Providence  his  guide, 
He  roamed  unfriended,  hopeless  and  forlorn  j 
In  contemplation  sad  of  follies  past ; 
Lamenting  oft,  in  bitterness  of  soul, 
The  fatal  taste  of  the  forbidden  tree. 
Without  the  embellishments  and  aid  of  art, 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  33 

The  earth  exhibited  a  dreary  waste. 
No  lofty  cities,  then,  with  glittering  spires 
And  massy  walls  of  mountain  rocks  composed, 
Reared  their  tall  turrets,  and  with  Atlas  vied, 
Who  should  sustain  the  starry  vault  of  heaven. 
No  rural  hamlet,  then,  with  peaceful  shades. 
And  groves  in  verdure  of  perennial  bloom, 
Oft  kissed  with  rapture  by  the  sportive  gale, 
Courted  the  wretched  traveller's  weary  feet 
To  the  sweet  blessings  of  a  frugal  board. 
}Twas  his  to  wander  mid  tenebrious  wilds, 
Where  deeply  grave,  majestick  Horror  reigns ; 
Where  savage  beasts  so  fiercely  yell  and  roar. 
That  Sol,  affrighted  at  the  dismal  sound, 
Ne'er  dared  to  dart  within  the  dreary  scene 
A  single  ray  to  dissipate  the  shade. 
Such  were  the  horrors  of  his  vagrant  path, 
And  such  the  woes,  which  disobedience  brought ; 
Through  all  his  race  the  dire  contagion  ran ; 
Disease  and  want  and  treachery  filled  the  earth. 

What  rending  grief  must  wound  our  parent's  breast, 
When  erst  from  Paradise  his  feet  were  driven ; 
What  heart-felt  torture  must  his  bosom  sting, 
Then  to  reflect,  that,  for  his  fault  alone, 
Ages  of  ages  of  his  sons  unborn 
Should  suffer  all  the  pangs  of  guilt  and  woe> 
Hear  the  dire  curse,  which  his  own  follies  wrought* 
And  feel  the  lash  of  wrath,  which  he  provoked. 

Perhaps,  elate  on  Fancy's  daring  wing, 
(For  she  with  wretched  mourners  is  a  guest) 
5 


34  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

He  oft  beheld  on  life's  tempestuous  tide, 

His  offspring  struggling  with  the  adverse  surge, 

Wrecked  on  adversity's  Charybdian  coast ; 

Now  borne  aloft  upon  the  swelling  surge, 

Now  plunging  headlong  down  the  dark  abyss, 

Where  boiling  quicksands  rave  with  madding  foam, 

And  pour  through  parting  waves  their  oozy  surf ; 

Where  sea-green  caves,  like  sepulchres  appear, 

To  catch  the  spirit,  fainting  with  fatigue. 

While  raging  seas  in  mad  rebellion  rise, 

And  rocks  and  winds  and  bellowing  oceans  war ; 

While  daring  surges  lift  their  heads  to  heavenr 

Loud  thunders,  bursting  with  tremendous  roar, 

Roll  through  the  quaking  sky  their  muttering  wrath 

The  hapless  strugglers  on  the  briny  deep, 

Each  effort  vain,  and  whelmed  in  dark  despair, 

Their  eyes  erect  to  heaven  with  languid  look, 

Upbraid  the  parent,  author  of  their  woes, 

And,  cursing  Adam,  sink  to  rise  no  more. 

Such  were  perhaps  the  scenes,  our  common  sire 

With  self-accusing  fancy  sadly  drew ; 

And  with  the  bitterest  grief,  that  mortals  feel? 

Bemoaned  the  deed  irrevocably  cursed. 

Cease,  tender  parent,  thy  invective  plaint ; 
No  more  thy  breast  with  lamentations  wound ; 
Oh,  wipe  the  dark  suspicion  from  thy  soul, 
That  e'er  thy  race  could  with  ungenerous  voice 
Pronounce  a  curse  upon  thy  reverend  head ! 
Sooner  shall  Winter  in  his  frigid  arms 
Embrace  the  blooming  Spring,  the  type  of  heaven  ; 
Sooner  the  turtle,  when  the  parent  dove 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  35 

Jrlas  Duilt  her  nest  in  insalubrious  spot, 
Oft  ravaged  by  the  fierce  rapacious  foe, 
Forget  the  author  of  its  tender  life, 
And  cease  to  coo  the  harmless  notes  of  love. 

Long  as  the  blue-waved  seas,  in  lucid  lapse, 
Shall  roll  majestick  through  the  caverned  earth ; 
Long  as  the  year  shall  blossom  with  the  spring, 
With  summer  ripen,  and  with  autumn  yield ; 
Long  as  the  sun,  the  powerful  king  of  day, 
Shall  ride  triumphant  in  his  car  of  light ; 
Till  Nature's  self  shall  droop  with  hoary  age, 
And  sleep,  low  mouldering,  in  her  silent  tomb, 
Formed  of  the  mighty  wrecks  of  falling  worlds  ^ 
Till  then  thy  name  shall  pervagrate  the  earth, 
Herald  of  Love,  and  monitor  of  Heaven, 


These  lines  are  -without  date,  but  as  they  appear  ia  the  hand  Mr.  Paine  wrote,, 
at  that  time,  they  were,  probably,  produced  in  his  junior  year ;  perhaps, 
however,  as  the  manuscript  is  a  fair  and  second  copy,  they  are  of  earlier 
origin. 


ON  SENSIBILITY. 

OPRIGHTLY  and  gay  as  love,  as  pure  as  truth, 
The  soul  of  beauty,  and  the  pride  of  youth, 
Demands  my  song ;  while  my  infantine  muse 
pn  waving  wing,  the  heaven-born  theme  pursues. 


36  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

No  tuneful  choir,  who  haunt  Pieria's  shade., 
JDo  I  invoke  to  lend  their  sacred  aid ; 
My  muse  would  beg  alone  Maria's  smile, 
To  inspire  her  numbers  and  reward  her  toil, 
And  proud  I'll  feel,  if  Mary's  hand  bestow 
Her  favourite  myrtle  on  my  honoured  brow. 

When  first  mankind  obeyed  tyrannick  sway, 
The  softer  virtues  in  oblivion  lay ; 
Then  pale  Affliction  with  her  iron  rod, 
And  Carnage  dire  around  the  nations  strode. 
Man  sunk  to  vile  debasement's  lowest  grade, 
And  lived  "  with  beasts  joint  tenants  of  the  shade." 
That  fond  endearing  love  which  Nature  formed, 
Which  once  each  breast  to  social  friendship  warmed? 
Which  once  to  generous  deeds  the  world  inspired, 
To  deeds  which  listening  ages  have  .admired, 
No  more  prevailed,  but  lust,  revenge  and  ire, 
With  brutal  fury  set  the  world  on  fire. 
Tyrants  and  kings  their  lawless  empire  spread, 
And  from  the  sanguine  earth  the  Virtues  fled. 
Though  whelmed  in  woe  and  misery  severe, 
Such  as  e'en  Nero  must  have  wept  to  hear ; 
Though  torn  from  all  the  objects  of  their  love, 
By  dread  seclusion,  by  a  long  remove  ; 
Yet  such  was  man's  degenerate  groveling  state., 
He  added  torture  to  the  wounds  of  fate. 
The  generous  fervour  of  the  social  flame 
Was  now  unknown,  or  only  known  in  name. 
Pale-eyed  Despair  now  raised  her  ebon  throne. 
And  Pity  knew  no  sorrows  but  her  own. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Without  a  friend  to  calm  his  throbbing  heart, 

And  from  his  breast  to  wrench  Misfortune's  dart,- 

Each  in  himself  beheld  his  last  resort, 

Too  weak,  too  frail  his  sorrow  to  support ; 

No  generous  tear  bemoaned  another's  grief, 

No  friendly  sympathy  bestowed  relief; 

Tyrants  beheld  their  easy  victims  fall, 

And  one  wide  common  grave  threat  death  to  all." 

But,  to  relieve  the  miseries  of  man, 

Sweet  Sensibility  her  reign  began  ; 

Beneath  the  mildness  of  her  gentle  reign, 

The  smiling  virtues  blessed  the  earth  again ; 

Candour  and  Friendship,  sweet  ethereal  pair, 

Dispelled  the  lurid  clouds  of  dark  despair ; 

Those  realms,  which  in  the  shades  of  darkness  lay, 

Shut  from  the  light  of  learning's  splendid  day, 

Or  in  the  vale  of  misery,  distressed 

With  every  woe,  that  grieves  a  mortal  breast, 

With  heart-felt  joy  perceived  Compassion  near, 

From  Sorrow's  eye  to  wipe  her  bursting  tear, 

And  mid  the  dungeon's  insalubrious  gloom, 

Beheld  the  rose  of  consolation  bloom. 

Sweet  Sensibility,  pure  is  thy  sway, 

As  the  clear  splendours  of  Hesperian  day ; 

Bright  is  thy  form,  as  when  the  clouds  of  even, 

Enchase  with  flaming  gold  the  azure  heaven ; 

Soft  is  thy  bosom,  as  the  silver  waves, 

When  gentle  zephyrs,  from  their  western  caves, 

Breathe  a  mild  perfume  o'er  the  rippling  stream, 

Which  smiles  effulgent  in  the  solar  beam. 

Prompt  is  this  breast,  the  wretched  to  release, 

To  allay  his  suffering  with  the  voice  of  peace ; 


38  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Thy  love  unbounded,  as  the  boundless  day, 

Glows  with  the  warmth  of  summer's  noontide  ray  ; 

From  thy  kind  tongue  the  sweetest  honey  flows, 

To  soothe  the  anguish  of  our  bitterest  woes. 

When  the  dread  king  of  terrors'  ruthless  dart, 

Arrests  a  fond  companion's  bleeding  heart, 

And  rifles  youth  of  all  his  vernal  bloom, 

And  lays  the  aged  in  the  mouldering  tomb  ; 

When  weeping  virgins  mourn  a  tender  mate., 

The  hapless  victim  of  a  cruel  fate ; 

When  youthful  lovers  o'er  their  fair  one's  grave, 

The  funeral  turf  with  briny  sorrows  lave  ; 

When  Hope  no  longer  cheers  their  streaming  eyes, 

And  drear  despair's  impervious  clouds  arise  ; 

Then,  Sensibility,  thy  power  is  known, 

Thou  never  leav'st  the  wretch  to  weep  alone. 

With  mild  Persuasion's  gently  pleasing  strain, 

You  love  to  ease  his  bosom-rending  pain, 

And,  while  the  mourner  lends  a  patient  ear, 

You  answer  sigh  for  sigh,  and  tear  for  tear ; 

Till,  by  the  magick  sympathy  of  woe, 

His  wounds  are  healed,  his  sorrows  cease  to  flow  ! 

Hail,  Sensibility  !  thou  soul  of  love, 

'Tis  thine  the  various  scenes  of  bliss  to  prove ; 

The  tear,  we  shed  upon  another's  grief, 

The  woes,  we  suffer  for  our  friend's  relief, 

Afford  more  pleasure  to  the  feeling  heart, 

Than  all  the  pomp  and  pride  of  wealth  impart ! 

The  silken  sons  of  luxury  and  ease, 

With  vain  magnificence,  the  crowd  may  please ; 

The  chief,  victorious,  quits  the  embattled  ground, 

The  bloodrstained  laurels  round  his  temples  bound ; 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  39 

The  marble  bust  may  tell  to  future  age, 

Some  glorious  villain  on  the  present  stage  ! 

But  what  are  riches,  but  an  empty  name  ? 

And  what  is  glory,  but  the  toy  of  fame  ? 

What  is  the  mighty  laurel,  gained  in  fight  ? 

To  this  the  private  murderer  has  a  right. 

Envy,  the  brightest  character  may  rust ; 

The  loftiest  monuments  are  laid  in  dust ; 

Lo,  brazen  statues  moulder  and  decay, 

And  hoary  Time  sweeps  all  the  world  away  I 

Then,  where  is  glory,  where  the  proud  and  great  ? 

Where  is  the  tyrant  with  his  pomp  and  state  ? 

Beggars  and  kings  are  destined  to  one  grave ; 

Death  deals  alike  to  monarch  and  to  slave. 

Then  learn,  O  man,  to  traverse  out  the  year 

Of  fleeting  life,  which  Heaven  has  lent  thee  here. 

Be  prompt  to  offer,  with  a  kind  relief, 

The  friendly  pillow  for  the  sons  of  grief. 

Let  feeling  sympathy  for  every  woe, 

Which  groaning  mortals  suffer  here  below, 

Let  Sensibility  with  heavenly  fire, 

With  generous  charity,  thy  soul  inspire ; 

That,  when  pale  Death  this  dreary  scene  shall  close, 

Millions  may  shout  thee  from  this  world  of  woes. 

This  is  the  noblest  monument  of  praise, 

Which  human  excellence  on  earth  can  raise  ; 

This  is  the  trophy,  which  with  power  sublime 

Shall  baffle  all  the  wrath  of  hoary  time. 

But  why,  my  muse,  dost  thou  with  daring  wing. 

Attempt  so  great,  so  bold  a  theme  to  sing  ? 

Lo  !  in  Amelia's  breast  the  charms  you  tell 

In  sweet  complacence  and  perfection  dwell ; 


4O  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Maria,  too,  the  feeling  throb  has  known  ; 
There  Sensibility  erects  her  throne. 
Though  beauty  deck  the  fair  external  form 
With  all  the  elegance  of  every  charm  ; 
Though  sense  and  virtue  in  the  soul  combine, 
And  like  the  stars  in  bright  resplendence  shine 
If  Sensibility,  that  lovely  guest, 
Should  prove  a  stranger  to  the  virgin  breast, 
Beauty  and  sense  and  virtue  must  appear 
But  sounding  names,  which  only  fops  revere ; 
Like  some  fair  image,  which  the  mimick  strife 
Of  Sculpture's  hand  has  made  resembling  life, 
Which  wants  that  nervous  vigour  to  acquire, 
That  spreads  through  every  limb  the  vital  fire ; 
But  Sensibility,  the  queen  of  grace, 
Soft,  as  Amelia's  sweetly  blooming  face, 
From  every  stain  the  heavy  soul  refines, 
And  with  a  smile  in  every  feature  shines ; 
To  every  charm  a  milder  beauty  lends, 
The  fairest  form  with  fairer  tints  amends ; 
A  gentle  mildness  to  the  breast  imparts, 
Attracts,  enchants  and  captivates  our  hearts ; 
Sprightly  and  gay  as  love,  as  pure  as  truth, 
The  soul  of  beauty,  and  the  pride  of  youth. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES  41 


- 

A  PASTORAL- 

[Written  April  10,   1790.] 

A  HE  shades  of  night  with  sleep  had  fled  away ; 

Heaven's  rising  scale  now  flamed  with  new-born  day,; 

Now  fragrant  roses  plumed  the  crest  of  dawn, 

And  tears  of  joy  arrayed  the  smiling  lawn; 

The  early  villagers  had  left  their  beds, 

And  with  their  flocks  had  whitened  all  the  meads-, 

Beneath  the  embowering  covert  of  a  grove, 
Whose  blooming  bosom  courts  the  smiles  of  love, 
Melodious  songsters  tuned  their  warbling  strains, 
And  charmed  the  satyrs  and  admiring  swains. 
So  soft  their  notes,  that  Echo  silent  hung, 
And  Zephyr  ceased  to  breathe,  to  hear  the  song  ; 
Shepherds,  to  join  the  tuneful  war,  forsook 
Their  native  shade  and  left  their  peaceful  crook .; 
The  choral  song  awaked  each  rising  day, 
And  larks  forgot  to  sing  their  matin  lay. 

Long  had  young  Corydon,  outvied  by  none, 
The  ivy  wreath  from  all  his  rivals  won ; 
Till,  from  a  mountain's  side,  whose  lofty  brow 
Whitens  with  pride,  and  spurns  the  plains  below, 
Young  Damon,  versed  in  polished  numbers,  came,. 
And  claimed  the  laurel  of  Aonian  fame. 
6 


42  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

No  sooner  morn  had  cheered  the  skies  with  light, 
And  modest  fields  blushed  from  the  embrace  of  night, 
Than  Corydon  and  Damon  sung  their  loves, 
And  the  sweet  notes  breathed  softly  through  the  groves. 

DAMON. 

Hark  !  how  the  birds  from  every  blossom  sing, 
And  early  linnets  hail  the  purple  spring ! 
Melodious  notes  ascend  from  every  spray, 
And  vocal  forests  wake  the  dawning  day ; 
Spring  trips  the  meads,  and  opes  the  sky  serene, 
And  gentle  breezes  cool  the  pleasing  scene. 
When  one  soft  chorus  purls  from  crystal  streams, 
Tunes  Nature's  harp  and  murmurs  joyful  hymns  i 
Why  sit  we  idle,  when  all  nature's  gay, 
And  lively  Fancy  gilds  the  morning  ray  ? 

CORYDON. 

Our  flocks  together  graze  the  flowery  plain ; 
Sing  then,  while  I  attentive  hear  the  strain  : 
But  let  no  mournful  song  your  voice  employ  ; 
Spring's  florid  pencil  paints  no  scenes  but  joy. 
No  stake  I  offer,  for  a  bribe  can  fire 
No  minds,  but  such  as  vulgar  thoughts  inspire. 
Begin  the  song,  for  now  the  crocus  glows, 
And  toiling  bees  explore  the  flagrant  rose. 

PAMON. 

Ye  Mantuan  daughters,  leave  your  cooling  shades, 
Where  lavish  Science  all  her  flowerets  spreads  ; 
Come  with  your  needed  aid,  inspire  my  lays, 
And  fill  the  grove  with  fair  Myrtilla's  praise. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  43 

CORYDOIST. 

Come  then,  great  Worth,  and  teach  me  how  to  glow, 
And  with  thy  sweetness  teach  my  verse  to  flow. 
Come,  my  Constantia,  and  inspire  my  lays, 
For  thou  alone  sing'st  equal  to  thy  praise. 

DAMON. 

Ye  vernal  gales,  who  fanned  the  ambrosial  grove^ 
Where  first  Myrtilla  crowned  my  sighs  with  love, 
On  your  soft  wings  let  Damon's  numbers  float ; 
Ye  feathered  songsters,  swell  the  echoing  note  ; 
Trees,  whisper  praises,  and  ye  meads,  look  gay, 
For  fair  Myrtilla  warms  the  amorous  lay. 
When  flaming  Sirius  robed  Apollos'  brow, 
With  fiercer  heat  and  scorched  the  world  below, 
I  saw  the  fair  one,  rambling  o'er  the  meads ; 
The  drooping  willows  reared  their  mournful  heads, 
The  fainting  birds  again  began  to  sing, 
And  smiling  Nature  fondly  thought  'twas  spring. 
Not  chaste  Dictinna  with  her  silver  train 
Appeared  so  graceful,  or  could  cause  such  pain. 
With  eyes  and  feet  averse  she  fled  the  green, 
And  turned  to  see  if  she  had  fled  unseen, 

CORYDON. 

Here  Spring's  gay  lap  once  poured  forth  all  its  stores, 
And  Joy's  soft  breezes  winged  the  rolling  hours, 
The  brightening  landscapes  swelled  with  teeming  grain, 
And  smiling  Ceres  plumed  the  floating  plain. 
But  now  no  more  these  rural  scenes  delight, 
Nor  flowery  prospects  glad  our  raptured  sight* 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Constantia's  gone ;  Spring  paints  the  blooming  meadSy 

But  to  confess,  how  she,  without  her,  fades. 

The  noisy  town  attracts  the  fair  one's  eye. 

To  seek  the  pleasures  of  a  milder  sky. 

Then  droop,  ye  flowerets,  for  Constantia's  gone. 

And  joy  no  more  shall  glitter  on  the  thorn. 

The  bees  may  well  forget  their  waxen  store, 

And  beauteous  nature  smile  in  spring  no  more. 

4 

No  more  Arabian  gales  their  odours  shed, 
Beauty  and  sweetness  with  Constantia's  fled. 
Elegiack  ditties  chant  o'er  Spring's  sad  urn, 
And  Philomel  shall  teach  the  woods  to  mourn. 
The  eve  comes  on,  in  solemn  brown  arrayed. 
And  weeps  in  dews  that  fair  Constantia's  fled. 
Nectarean  streams  the  oak  forgets  to  yield, 
And  lurking  tares  o'errun  the  uncultured  field. 
The  gales  are  taught  to  sigh ;  the  waving  reed 
Trembles  the  ditty  to  the  mournful  mead. 

DAMOST. 

The  Muses  haunt  Parnassus'  cooling  groves, 
And  blooming  Paphos  courts  the  smiles  and  loves  \ 
But  if  Myrtilla  shall  prefer  the  plain, 
Here  Venus  smiles,  and  here  the  Muses  reign. 

CORYDON. 

In  spring  the  open  lawn  delights  the  eye, 
And  cooling  groves,  when  Sirius  fires  the  sky; 
When  Autumn  purples  o'er  the  fruitful  field, 
To  pluck  the  fruits  which  trees  luxuriant  yield ; 
But  in  my  heart  one  constant  passion  glows  ; 
My  love-sick  breast  none  but  Constantia  knows. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  45 

Come,  visit  then,  my  fair,  the  enamelled  mead ; 

For  thee  the  myrtle  weaves  its  friendly  shade. 

Here  crystal  streams  meander  through  the  grove, 

And  every  zephyr  wafts  the  strains  of  love* 

Come,  lovely  maid,  more  beauteous,  than  the  morn, 

And  with  your  smiles  these  sylvan  scenes  adorn. 

Though  spring's  return  hath  damasked  o'er  the  field, 

And  in  the  rose  her  gayest  plumes  revealed, 

Nature,  to  gain  her  own,  must  speak  your  praise, 

She  in  your  blush  a  fairer  rose  displays. 

Come,  my  Constantia,  leave  the  busy  town, 

And  teach  another  Eden  here  to  bloom. 

To  thee  the  feathered  choir  devote  their  lays, 

And  warble  lavish  musick  in  your  praise. 

When  with  your  lyre  you  swell  melodious  songs, 

E'en  Orpheus  owns  to  thee  the  wreath  belongs. 

The  wolf  shall  fawn  at  thy  soft  tale  of  love, 

And  amorous  trees  shall  crowd  into  a  grove. 

At  thy  return,  the  rose  shall  bloom  again, 

And  breathe  new  fragrance  o'er  the  joyful  plain. 

Autumn's  rich  cup  shall  pour  its  blissful  stream* 

And  joy's  bright  nectar  overlook  the  brim. 

But,  hark  !  yon  hills  resound  a  pleasing  theme, 

And  frisking  lambkins  gambol  to  the  hymn. 

In  vain,  ye  gales,  that  cool  meridian  heats, 

Ye  strive  to  hide  from  whence  you  stole  your  sweets. 

Constantia  comes ;  at  that  revered  name, 

Tygers  forget  to  rage,  and  wolves  grow  tame. 

DAMON. 

To  you  the  palm  I  yield ;  yours  be  the  praise? 
For  'tis  Constantia,  shines  throughout  your  lays. 


46  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Hail,  queen  of  Muses  !  now  the  tuneful  Nine 
Shall  court  thy  smile,  and  in  your  praise  combine. 
But,  hark  !  the  plains  the  pleasing  name  resound ; 
Constantia's  come,  tunes  all  the  vocal  ground, 
While  her  bright  charms  such  joyful  smiles  diffuse, 
To  speak  her  worth,  let  silence  hush  the  muse. 
To  give  the  fair  her  meritorious  praise, 
Numbers  would  fail,  and  sound  itself  must  cease 


These  Verses  make  the  conclusion  of  a  forensiek  disputation  in  the  chapel  at 
Cambridge  University,  on  the  question,  "  Whether  learning  be  conducive  to 
the  happiness  of  man."  The  manuscript  shows  no  date,  but  the  hand  writing 
and  the  nature  of  the  exercise  refer  the  lines  to  his  junior  or  senior  year. 


THE  unweeting  swain,  while  Nature  round  him  spreads 

Her  rich  luxuriance  o'er  the  fertile  meads, 

By  custom  forced,  assumes  his  native  plough, 

And  feels  no  pleasures,  but  from  labour  flow, 

But  where  proud  Learning  pours  her  golden  blaze, 

The  curious  eye  the  wondrous  world  surveys ; 

Sees  thousand  beauties  paint  the  cheek  of  day. 

And  all  Elysium  glitter  from  a  spray ; 

Sees  craggy  mountains  rear  their  daring  throne, 

While  suppliant  vales  the  sovereign  monarch  own. 

While  gay  confusion  decks  the  varying  scene, 

What  floods  of  glory  burst  from  Heaven's  bright  mien. 

What  glittering  gems  adorn  the  crown  of  night ; 

The  mind  is  lost  in  regions  of  delight ! 

Here  rolls  majestick,  Dian's  silver  car; 

Here  heaven  stooped  down  to  embrace  her  brightest  stai\ 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  47 

When  Newton  rose,  sublimely  great,  from  earth, 
And  bpldly  spoke  whole  systems  into  birth. 
Around  the  walls  of  heaven  the  planets  roll, 
And  her  resplendent  pavements  gild  the  pole. 
Behold  the  son  of  wisdom  joyful  rise, 
And  wing  his  native  element  the  skies ; 
See  him,  rejoicing,  leave  this  mean  abode, 
And  lost  in  rapture  'mid  the  thrones  of  God, 
Unnumbered  pleasures  swell  his  heaving  breast ; 
Words  are  too  feeble,  silence  speaks  the  rest ! 


THE  REFINEMENT  OF  MANNERS 


PROGRESS  OF  SOCIETY. 


An  Exhibition  Poem,  delivered  in   the  chapel  of  Harvard  University,  Sep- 
tember 27,  1791. 


A  HE  natural  world,  by  Heaven's  stupendous  plan, 

Is  formed  an  emblem  of  the  life  of  man. 

Vain  is  the  wish,  that  Spring's  Favonian  reign, 

With  Autumn's  golden  stores,  should  crown  the  plain ; 

And  vain  the  hope,  in  life's  first  dawn,  to  find 

Those  nerves  of  thought,  that  grace  the  ripened  mind. 

Nature,  too  proud  in  one  poor  garb  to  appear, 

Varies  her  livery  with  the  varying  year.    . 

Her  laws,  unchanged  by  Time's  insidious  power, 

Unravel  centuries  or  revolve  an  hour ; 


48  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Her  stated  order,  to  the  seasons  given, 

Rolls  round  with  equal  ease  the  stars  of  heaven. 

Clothed  from  the  wardrobe,  blooms  the  roseate  spring, 

And  warbling  birds  and  harmless  poets  sing. 

Prompted  by  her,  the  Muse,  with  doating  eyes, 

Beholds  her  callow  plumes,  and  pants  to  rise ; 

With  half-formed  hopes,  and  fears  ne'er  felt  before, 

She  spreads  her  fluttering  wings,  but  dreads  to  soar. 

But  while  old  Autumn,  on  the  fertile  plain, 

Totters  and  groans  beneath  the  weight  of  grain ; 

While  grateful  peasants  reap  the  bearded  ear, 

And  golden  Plenty  crowns  the  fading  year ; 

While  Harvard's  sons,  whom  Fame  with  smiles  surveys, 

Throng  to  the  harvest  of  their  well-earned  praise  ; 

May  not  the  Muse,  ambitious  of  a  name, 

Put  in  her  sickle  for  one  "  sheaf"  of  fame  ? 

Far  from  Pieria's  sacred  stream  remote, 
On  half-strung  lyre,  she  tunes  her  lisping  note  ; 
The  rise  of  manners  from  their  fount  to  trace, 
From  savage  life,  transformed,  to  social  grace ; 
Till  the  rough  diamond  of  the  human  mind, 
By  care  assiduous,  and  by  skill  refined, 
From  all  the  blemish  of  its  native  stone, 
In  varied  beams  of  polished  brilliance  shone, 
This  be  her  theme,  and  should  her  numbers  fail, 
So  great  a  theme  will  prove  a  friendly  veil. 

The  mind  of  man  by  gradual  rise  improves ; 
Ambition's  noblest  spring  his  bosom  moves. 
This  prompts  the  soul  with  ardour  to  excel, 
In  thinking  rightly  or  in  acting  well  j 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  49 

But  when  dark  clouds  the  savage  mind  o'erspread, 
Refinement  droops,  and  Friendship's  s6lf  is  dead. 
No  more  bright  Reason  in  her  zenith  shines  ; 
Down  to  the  west  the  mental  sun  declines ; 
And  sunk  to  vile  debasement's  lowest  grade, 
Man  lives  "  with  beast,  joint  tenant  of  the  shade." 

Created  life  was  formed  for  some  great  end  ; 
A  centre  must  be,  where  its  motions  tend. 
As  high  as  heaven  its  azure  arch  sustains, 
Deep  as  the  gloom,  where  dreary  Chaos  reigns, 
Sublimely  awful,  and  immensely  great, 
Is  raised  the  firm,  perennial  wall  of  fate  ; 
On  the  dark  frontiers  of  creation  laid, 
Where  boundless  space  extends  a  rayless  shade. 
Here  Time's  destroying  arm  in  vain  has  strove. 
The  mighty  fabrick  from  its  base  to  move ; 
Here  angels  too,  rebellious  sons  of  light, 
Once  rose  in  arms  to  raze  the  bounds  of  night ; 
The  solid  rock  resists  their  raging  power, 
The  battering  Aries,  and  the  thundering  ore ; 
Against  the  wall  their  harmless  weapons  break ; 
What  God  has  raised,  not  earth  and  heaven  can  shake 

Two  mighty  barriers  bound  this  transient  span. 
Barriers,  too  lofty  for  the  stride  of  man ; 
Lucina  here,  sits  smiling  at  his  birth, 
There  Death,  triumphant  o'er  the  bleeding  earth. 
Lo  !  on  the  cradle's  down  the  infant  sleeps ; 
Lo  !  on  its  um  the  tender  parent  weeps  ! 
No  human  force  can  brave  the  assaults  of  age  ; 
No  strength  of  mind  can  shield  the  hoary  sage  ; 
7 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

The  world  is  swept  by  time's  impetuous  wave, 
And  man  floats  downward  to  the  common  grave. 

To  fill  this  fleeting  hour,  this  narrow  space, 
With  actions,  worthy  an  immortal  race  ; 
To  teach  the  rapid  moments,  as  they  fly, 
Beyond  the  utmost  ken  of  mortal  eye, 
To  assume  the  smile  of  Virtue's  placid  mien ; 
With  social  pleasures  sweeten  every  scene ; 
To  form  the  manners,  quell  proud  War's  alarms., 
And,  wide  extending  Friendship's  open  arms, 
With  generous  love  to  clasp  in  one  embrace 
The,  mighty  household  of  the  human  race  ; 
This  is  the  task,  the  pleasing  task  of  man ; 
The  great  perfection  of  Jehovah's  plan  ; 
This  is  the  gate  to  Paradise  below, 
A  safe  asylum  from  each  mortal  woe. 

Morals,  like  ore  extracted  from  the  mine, 
Though  crude  at  first,  by  art  are  taught  to  shint 
These  to  a  nation  a  complexion  give, 
With  these  republicks  fall,  with  these  they  live. 
Nations  with  these  hi  civil  power  increase, 
In  strength  of  war  and  all  the  sweets  of  peace. 
To  these  the  softer  arts  their  polish  owe, 
From  this  vast  fount  the  streams  of  science  flow. 
Here  law  and  justice  mutual  sources  find, 
And  hence  the  virtues,  that  adorn  mankind. 

But  statesmen  still  o'erlook  this  mighty  cause- 
And  modern  Dracos  trump  their  penal  laws ; 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  Si 

With  lordly  edicts  rule  a  groaning  state, 

And  trust  that  laws  will  humble  souls  create ; 

And,  lest  old  Time  should  spy  such  gross  defects, 

Inverting  nature,  causes  name  effects. 

When  souls  depraved  the  curule  chair  obtain, 

And  through  the  realm,  the  same  great  evils  reign, 

Can  feeble  laws  the  publick  heart  reform, 

Exalt  the  morals  and  avert  the  storm  ? 

Behold  on  high  the  amber  tide  of  day, 

Which  rolls  refulgent  from  the  solar  ray ; 

Rivers  from  springs,  and  seas  from  rivers  flow ; 

From  humble  shrubs  majestick  forests  grow,; 

The  rismg  manners  of  an  infant  state 

Will  be  the  parent  of  its  future  fate. 

These,  like  the  living  current  of  the  heart, 

Through  every  breast  their  vital  influence  dart ; 

Brace  every  nerve  and  man  the  dauntless  soul, 

Preserve  each  member  and  support  the  whole. 

But  when  dread  Vice,  with  her  infectious  stains, 

Pollutes  the  blood,  that  warms  the  publick  veins, 

Corrosive  poisons  through  the  vitals  roll, 

Impair  their  vigour,  and  corrupt  the  soul. 

Vice  clogs  the  channels  of  the  sanguine  tide ; 

Virtue  refines  and  bids  the  currents  glide  ; 

These  arm  with  strength,  or  shrink  the  trembling  nerve, 

Destroy  the  body,  or  in  health  preserve. 

Years  have  on  years,  on  ages  ages  rolled, 
But  each  new  sun  the  same  great  truth  has  told ; 
That  morals  still  a  nation's  fate  comprise, 
Sink  to  the  earth,  or  lift  it  to  the  skies ; 


52  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

These  swell  the  page  experience  has  unfurled, 
Exalt  a  throne,  or  crush  a  falling  world ; 
Then  hear,  O  Earth ;  with  shouts  applausive  own 
The  voice  of  Time,  through  History's  clarion  blown ! 

When  savage  Nature  her  dominion  kept, 
And  each  mild  Virtue  in  oblivion  slept ; 
To  scourge  mankind  a  group  of  monsters  rose, 
And  headlong  plunged  them  down  the  abyss  of  woes. 
Through  barbarous  hordes,  dire  War  and  Horror  strode, 
And  Havock  grimly  smiled  o'er  seas  of  blood. 
The  dearest  scenes  of  love  were  stained  with  gore, 
And  Peace  and  Friendship  ruled  the  world  no  more. 

Ferocious  clans,  whom  natural  wants  provoke, 
Whose  necks  ne'er  groaned  beneath  a  galling  yoke, 
Armed  for  the  horrors  of  inhuman  strife, 
Aim  the  deep  wound,  and  plunge  the  deadly  knife  > 
Winged  by  the  sweeping  gale,  their  feet  resound, 
And  scarcely  print  a  vestige  on  the  ground  ; 
The  dews,  that  glisten  on  the  spiry  grass, 
Forget  their  dread,  nor  tremble  as  they  pass ; 
Heaven's  rapid  steeds,  the  mighty  winds  submit, 
And  own  the  swifter  motions  of  their  feet. 
Not  with  such  fury  drives  the  rattling  hail, 
As  when  these  weapons  fill  the  sounding  gale  ; 
O'er  floods,  o'er  hills,  their  savage  vengeance  flies, 
Like  ocean  storms,  and  lightens  like  the  skies. 
No  fear  of  death  their  dauntless  souls  deplore  ; 
Death  is  a  friend  when  glory  is  no  more. 
Their  thundering  arms  in  victory's  dazzling  car. 
Waged  with  the  world  a  predatory  war ; 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  53 

And,  with  whole  rivers  of  fraternal  gore, 
Swelled  ocean's  waves  to  heights  unknown  before. 
They  followed  conquest,  where  their  sachems  led, 
And  climbed  to  fame  o'er  mountains  of  the  dead. 

Still  rose  unfelled  the  forest's  towering  oak ; 
The  plough  was  then  unknown ;  unknown  the  yoke. 
The  soil  uncultured  gave  no  harvest  birth ; 
Unlocked  remained  the  granary  of  the  earth. 

The  human  soul,  in  this  unpolished  state, 
Lay  all  benighted  in  the  clouds  of  fate. 
Unskilled  hi  useful  and  instructive  art, 
A  blinded  frenzy  raved  in  every  heart. 
No  friendly  scene  then  charmed  the  smiling  eye ; 
No  heart  exulted  in  the  social  tie. 
By  wants  surrounded,  and  to  slaughter  driven, 
Lost  was  each  semblance  of  the  parent  heaven. 
Compared  to  man  in  this  ferocious  age, 
Enthralled  in  darkness  and  unbridled  rage, 
Tygers  no  more  a  savage  nature  claim, 
And  howling  wolves  in  all  their  wrath  are  tame ; 
E'en  the  fierce  lion  in  his  horrid  den 
Seemed  a  civilian  to  the  monsters,  men. 


Such  were  the  scenes,  which  savage  ages  saw, 
When  brutal  frenzy  waged  fraternal  war ; 
Nor  modern  days  from  these  exemption  claim  ; 
Oh  !  Europe,  blush,  for  thou  hast  seen  the  same  1 

Where  sullen  Russia's  frowning  turrets  rise, 
Bare  to  the  fury  of  the  northern  skies, 


o4  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Suspicion,  Cruelty,  Revenge  resort, 
The  privy  council  of  a  tyrant's  court. 
At  their  dread  bar  a  guiltless  virgin  led, 
Fell  on  the  shrine,  where  many  a  saint  had  bled ; 
Mild,  as  the  evening,  as  the  noon  day,  bright, 
Pure  and  unblemished,  as  the  stars  of  light. 
The  primrose,  blushing  on  the  fragrant  heath. 
Appeared  a  poppy  to  her  sweeter  breath ; 
The  lily's  self  was  blackness  to  her  skin, 
It  shone  reflected  from  her  soul  within. 
While  the  full  tear  hung  glistening  in  her  eye, 
The  tyrant's  voice  decreed  her  fate, — to  die  ! 
Death  at  the  sound  his  savage  office  cursed. 
And  scarce  had  heart  to  execute  his  trust. 


Lo  !  now  the  virgin  to  the  scaffold  led, 
A  sweet  complacence  o'er  her  features  spread  1 
The  ministers  of  death,  though  old  in  blood, 
Lost  in  surprise,  in  silent  wonder,  stood ; 
While  she,  too  fair,  too  pure  for  Slander's  breath, 
Serenely  smiled,  and  hailed  the  approach  of  death. 
The  moment  came  ;  on  Fate's  slow  wheel  it  run  ; 
Time  saw,  and  dropped  a  tear,  and  rolled  it  on ! 
The  moment  came,  and  Death's  barbarian  crew 
The  snow-white  mantle  from  her  bosom  drew. 
Pale  Fear  with  many  a  throb  her  bosom  swelled, 
And  Hope,  our  last,  our  dearest  friend,  repelled. 
Her  cheek,  which  once  of  Parian  marble  shone, 
Formed  of  the  lily,  and  the  rose  full  blown, 
Now  seemed  a  morning  sky,  with  blushes  spread, 
Where  trickling  tears  a  glistening  radiance  shed ; 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  55 

While  Modesty  averts  her  bashful  eye  ; 

The  sight  would  tempt  an  angel  from  the  sky. 

Now  to  the  post  her  tender  wrists  are  bound ; 
With  cruel  chains  her  body  lashed  around. 
Her  tears,  her  shrieks  no  hardened  breast  inspired ; 
No  bosom  throbbed ;  and  Pity's  self  expired. 

"  I  die,"  the  virgin  cries,  "  without  a  stain ; 
"  Guiltless  I  die,  by  dark  injustice  slain  1" 

Stung  to  the  quick,  lo !  brutal  Torture  raves  ; 
With  foaming  rage  her  iron  cordage  waves ! 
Her  vengeful  arm  the  horrid  knout  displays, 
And,  as  exposed  the  virgin's  bosom  lays, 
With  mangling  blows  provokes  the  spouting  gore, 
While  tears  unseen,  and  shrieks  unheard  deplore  ; 
Redoubled  strokes  the  quivering  members  tear, 
Strip  off  the  flesh,  and  lay  the  vitals  bare ! 
Ye  Heavens !  why  sleeps  the  thunder  in  the  sky  ? 
Speak  but  the  word,  Barbarity  shall  die  ! 
Being's  great  wheel  revolves,  and  now  deranged, 
Lo  1  man  and  brute  their  rank  have  interchanged  ! 
A  sight  so  moving,  bids  no  pangs  arise 
In  man's  hard  breast ;  he  views  with  smiling  eyes ; 
While  savage  beasts  in  sympathy  appear, 
And  roll  in  silent  grief  the  gushing  tear. 
Rocks  strive  in  vain  their  pity  to  conceal, 
And,  spite  of  nature,  learn  for  once  to  feel. 
E'en  Heaven  itself,  when  it  from  high  beheld 
A  nymph,  whose  form  her  soul  alone  excelled. 


56  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Bear  all  the  pangs,  that  Torture  could  bestow, 
Dropped  down  a  gracious  tear  to  end  her  woe ; 
The  tear  descended  from  the  world  above, 
From  that  pure  region  of  eternal  love, 
Down  to  the  blood-stained  page  of  mortal  life, 
Where  glared  in  crimson  hate,  revenge,  and  strife, 
Wept,  as  it  fell,  the  loss  of  virtuous  shame, 
And  blotted  from  the  scroll  the  virgin's  name  1 

In  this  drear  age,  which  ignorance  o'erspread, 
When  Frenzy  reared  her  snake-encircled  head, 
Mankind  long  grovelled  hi  their  native  dust ; 
On  their  dark  minds  no  glimpse  of  reason  burst. 
A  gloomy  film  was  spread  o'er  mortal  eyes, 
Like  the  thick  veil,  which  shrouds  the  spangled  skies, 
When,  dimly  seen,  the  wandering  fires  of  night 
Through  heaven's  dark  glass  emit  a  watery  light. 
The  earth,  enveloped  hi  the  impervious  gloom. 
Appeared  a  dismal,  solitary  tomb. 
Cimmerian  Dulness  seized  the  throne  of  Jove, 
Convened  her  clouds,  and  thronged  the  vault  above ; 
Till  daring  Genius  burst  surrounding  night, 
And  shone  the  day-star  of  returning  light ; 
Till  Reason's  sun  in  eastern  clime  appeared, 
From  heaven's  blue  arch  the  shrouding  vapours  cleared. 
With  plastick  heat  the  soul  of  man  illumed, 
And  all  the  mental  world  in  verdure  bloomed. 

Ages  of  darkness  now  had  rolled  away, 
Ere  man,  awakening,  hailed  the  dawn  of  day ; 
E'er  heaven-descended,  soul-refining  grace 
Shone  in  the  cradle  of  the  human  race. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  57 

In  -figypt  first  her  youthful  charms  were  seen* 
To  sport  with  rusticks  on  the  Memnian  green. 
Here  first  her  social  powers  on  earth  began, 
To  polish  savages,  and  form  the  man ; 
Here  first  for  use,  and  here  for  pleasure  sought, 
The  various  sources  of  instructive  thought. 

Here  Agriculture  claims  her  glorious  birth  ; 
Here  first  the  ploughshare  turned  the  furrowed  earth ; 
Here  bounteous  Plenty  beamed  her  infant  smile  ; 
And  here  immerged  beneath  the  pregnant  Nile 
Her  "  cornu  copiae,"  till  it  held  no  more, 
And  poured  luxuriance  round  the  ./Egyptian  shore. 
The  hardy  swains  with  joyful  hearts  appear, 
To  reap  the  bounties  of  the  fruitful  year, 
While  waving  crowns  old  Autumn's  brows  entwine. 
The  golden  orange  and  the  blushing  vine. 

Such  are  the  blessings  of  indulgent  skies, 
When  heaven  in  dews  the  thirsty  glebe  supplies  j 
When  cultured  furrows  swell  the  implanted  gram, 
And  vegetation  crowns  the  gladsome  plain. 
From  latent  seeds  the  wealthiest  harvests  rise ; 
The  sun  must  dawn,  before  he  lights  the  skies. 
Industrious  virtue  constant  bliss  enjoys ; 
For  labour  recreates,  when  leisure  cloys. 

Hail,  Ceres  !  second  parent  of  mankind ! 
Hail,  great  restorer  of  the  human  mind ! 
In  fame's  bright  record  be  enrolled  thy  birthj 
The  era  of  regenerated  earth ! 
8 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES, 

Thy  arm  the  tyrant  from  his  throne  has  hurled, 
And  roused  from  slumber  the  lethargick  world  ; 
Thy  hand  broke  off  the  shackles  of  control, 
And  gave  new  freedom  to  the  imprisoned  soul. 
To  thee  the  Aits  their  first  existence  owe, 
And  Commerce  owns,  from  thee  her  sources  flow. 
Thy  voice  decreed ;  in  heaven  the  voice  was  heard, 
And  sky-born  Virtue  on  the  earth  appeared. 
Thou  bad'st  the  sightless  mind  of  man  to  see, 
And  human  nature  seems  renewed  by  thee  ! 

Where  auburn  Ceres  o'er  the  waving  plain 
Rolls  her  light  car,  and  spreads  her  golden  reign ; 
The  swains  industrious,  and  inured  to  toil, 
Inclement  Sirius,  and  the  rugged  soil, 
With  hope's  fond  dreams  their  swift-winged  hours  beguile, 
And  view  in  spring  the  embryo  harvest  smile  ; 
Far  from  the  cares,  that  gorgeous  courts  molest, 
And  all  the  thorns,  that  pageant  pomp  infest ; 
Contentment's  wings  o'erspread  their  straw-thatched  cot. 
And  Health  and  Hymen  bless  their  happy  lot. 
Day  bounds  the  labour  of  the  teeming  soil, 
And  night  unbends  the  aching  nerves  of  toil. 
The  hard  fatigues,  that  daily  sweat  their  brows, 
Add  charms  to  rest,  and  raptures  to  repose ; 
Labour  and  Sleep  vicissive  thrones  maintain, 
The  downy  pillow,  and  the  sun-burnt  plain. 
By  mutual  wants  induced,  the  rustick  band 
Soon  learn  the  blessings  of  a  friendly  hand. 
The  rugged  hardships  of  the  plough  they  share, 
And  soothe  ferocious  mincjs  by  mutual  care, 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  59 

Their  social  labour  social  warmth  inspires, 
And  dawning  friendship  lights  her  purest  fires. 
Their  generous  breasts  with  growing  ardour  burn, 
And  love  for  love,  and  heart  for  heart  return. 
Thus  private  friendship  forms  the  social  chain. 
And  links  the  barbarous  tenants  of  the  plain. 
Still,  like  a  herd,  they  rove,  with  laws  unblest, 
No  civil  head  to  govern  o'er  the  rest ; 
Till  some  wise  sire,  whose  silver  tresses  flow, 
And  form  a  mantle  of  the  purest  snow, 
Quivering  with  age,  and  venerably  great, 
Assumes  the  sceptre,  and  the  chair  of  state. 
The  obedient  tribes  the  palsied  sage  revere, 
Whose  wisdom  taught  them,  both  to  love  and  fear  ; 
Their  filial  breasts,  unbought  by  courtly  bribes, 
With  reverence  see  the  father  of  the  tribes  ; 
His  voice  is  fate,  and  not  a  lisp  could  fall, 
That  was  not  thought  an  oracle  by  all ; 
With  eyes  of  homage,  they  beheld  his  age, 
And  called  their  realm  the  household  of  the  sage. 

Pleased  with  his  reign,  which  met  too  soon  a  close. 
The  tribes  beneath  elective  kings  repose. 
Now  laws  are  formed  to  guard  the  rights  of  man, 
And  peace  and  freedom  bless  the  social  plan ; 
Now  art,  the  offspring  of  the  ingenious  mind, 
Completes  the  system  and  adorns  mankind. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 


A  VALEDICTORY  POEM 


Delivered  on  the  21st  of  June,  1791,  being  the  day  when  Mr,  Paine  and 
class  left  College. 


AJONG  have  the  zephyrs,  in  their  sea-green  caves, 

Shunned  the  calm  bosom  of  the  slumbering  waves ; 

While  halcyon  Pleasure  nursed  her  tender  brood, 

Spread  her  smooth  wings,  and  skimmed  the  tranquil  flood. 

The  rising  gale  now  curls  the  lucid  seas ; 

The  canvass  wantons  with  the  buoyant  breeze ; 

The  bark  is  launched ;  we  throng  the  crowded  shore, 

Eye  the  dark  main,  and  hear  the  billows  roar ; 

The  tender  scene  unfolds ;  our  bosoms  melt ; 

And  silence  speaks  the  throbs,  we  all  have  felt. 

Here  let  us  pause,  and  ere  our  anchors  weigh, 

And  shoreless  ocean  bounds  the  vast  survey, 

Let  Friendship,  kneeling  on  the  weeping  strand, 

Kiss  her  last  tribute  to  her  native  land. 

Sweet,  lovely  Cam,  no  more  thy  rural  scenes, 
Thy  shady  arbours,  and  thy  splendid  greens, 
Thy  reverend  elms,  thy  soft  Idalian  bowers, 
Thy  rush-clad  hamlets,  and  thy  lofty  towers, 
Thy  spicy  valleys,  and  thy  opening  glades, 
Thy  falling  fountains,  and  thy  silent  shades  ; 
No  more  these  dear  delights,  that  once  were  ours, 
Smile  time  along,  nor  strew  our  couch  with  flowers. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  61 

Hail,  winding  Charles,  old  Ocean's  favourite  son, 
To  his  vast  urn  thy  gay  meanders  run. 
Diffusing  wealth,  thou  rollest  a  liquid  mine  ; 
Earth  drinks  no  current,  that  surpasses  thine  ! 
Thy  cooling  waves  succeed  the  sleeping  hearth. 
The  peasant's  fountain,  and  the  muses'  bath. 
Yet,  fairest  flood,  adieu  !  our  happy  day 
Like  thy  smooth  stream,  has  flowed  unseen  away. 
No  more  thy  banks  shall  bear  our  sportive  feet ; 
No  more  thy  waves  shall  quench  the  dogstar's  heat. 
Our  fate  reflected  in  thy  face  we  view ; 
Thou  hast  thy  ebb,  and  we  must  bid  adieu  ! 
Hail,  happy  Harvard  I  hail,  ye  sacred  groves, 
Where  Science  dwells,  and  lovely  Friendship  roves  ! 
Ye  tender  pleasures,  and  ye  social  sweets, 
Which  softened  life,  and  blessed  these  tranquil  seats ! 
To  part  with  you — a  solemn  gloom  is  spread ; 
The  sigh  half-stifled,  and  the  tear  half-shed. 

Come  then,  my  friends,  and,  while  the  willow  weaves 
A  weeping  garland  with  its  drooping  leaves, 
Let  Friendship's  myrtle  in  the  foliage  flow^ 
And  Wisdom's  ivy  wreath  the  shaded  brow. 
Life  is  a  stage,  with  varied  scenery  gay, 
But  scenes  more  various  mark  the  chequered  play. 
Virtue  and  Vice  here  shine  in  equal  state, 
The  same  their  wardrobe,  and  the  same  their  gait ; 
Here  gay  delusions  cheat  the  dazzled  eyes, 
And  bliss  and  sorrow  intermingled  rise. 
The  soil  of  life  their  equal  growth  manures ; 
One  sky  supports  them,  and  one  sun  matures. 


62  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Deep  in  the  bosom  of  each  distant  clime, 
Their  roots  defy  the  furrowing  share  of  time. 
Alike  they  bloom,  while  circling  seasons  wing 
The  raving  whirlwind  and  the  smiling  spring. 
One  luckless  day  the  extremes  of  fate  surveys, 
And  one  sad  hour  sees  both  the  tropicks  blaze. 

A  bitter  tincture  every  sweet  alloys, 
And  woes,  like  heirs,  succeed  insolvent  joys. 
Hard  is  the  lot  of  life,  by  fears  consumed, 
Or  hopes,  that  wither,  ere  they  well  have  bloomed !  r 
Who  breathes,  may  draw  the  death-infected  air ; 
Who  quaffs  the  nectar,  must  the  poison  share, 
Untainted  pleasures  soon  the  taste  would  cloy  ; 
Woe  forms  a  relish  for  returning  joy. 
The  raging  storm  gives  vegetation  birth ; 
And  thunders,  while  they  rock,  preserve  the  earth. 

Vain  are  the  gilded  dreams,  that  Fancy  weaves, 
With  the  light  texture  of  the  sybil's  leaves. 
Sweet  are  the  hours  of  Life's  expanding  years, 
When  drest  in  splendour,  every  scene  appears. 
Romantick  hopes  illusive  phantoms  feed ; 
New  prospects  open  as  the  old  recede ; 
In  flowering  verdure,  smiling  Edens  rise, 
And  isles  of  pleasure  tempt  the  enamoured  eyes  ; 
Still  unexplored  new  beauties  strike  the  sight. 
Till  Fancy's  wings  grow  weary  in  their  flight. 

Resplendent  bubbles,  decked  with  every  hue, 
Whose  tints  entrance  the  most  enraptured  view, 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  63 

Throng  every  prospect,  gild  each  rolling  hour, 
Frame  the  wild  dream,  and  haunt  the  silent  bower. 
These  airy  forms  our  fond  embrace  decoy, 
Elude  our  grasp,  and  stab  expected  joy  ; 
Cameleon-like,  with  every  hue  they  glare, 
Their  dress  the  rainbow,  and  their  food  the  air. 
Thus  gleams  the  insect  of  a  summer's  night, 
The  glistering  fire-fly's  corruscating  light. 
Awhile  it  wheels  its  undistinguished  flight 
Through  the  dark  bosom  of  impervious  night, 
'Till  from  its  opening  wings,  a  transient  gleam 
Smiles  through  the  dark,  and  pours  a  lucid  stream ; 
But  while  the  glitter  charms  our  gazing  eyes, 
Its  wings  are  folded,  and  the  meteor  dies. 

Maturer  years  in  swift  succession  roll, 
Enlarge  the  prospect  and  dilate  the  soul ; 
Tully  outstripped  lies  grovelling  in  renown, 
And  Virgil  weeps  upon  his  faded  crown. 
Grouped  in  one  view  the  extremes  of  life  are  joined, 
Arabia's  bloom  with  Lapland's  ice  combined ; 
Calypso's  grotto  with  the  field  of  arms  ; 
Ajacian  fury  with  Helenian  charms ; 
Bright  faulchions  lighten  in  the  olive  grove, 
And  helmets  mingle  with  the  toys  of  love. 
Here  modest  Merit  mourned  her  blasted  wreath, 
While  laurels  crowned  the  ghastly  scull  of  Death, 
Here  towering  pedants  proudly  learnt  to  sneer 
On  wits,  whom  they  had  sense  enough  to  fear ; 
The  midnight  lamp  with  native  genius  vied, 
Mimicked  its  lustre,  and  its  fire  supplied, 


64  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

The  nuts  of  grace,  the  rattles  of  the  stool 
Bribed  and  adorned  the  blockhead  of  the  school. 
O'er  Youth's  gay  paths  delusive  snares  are  spread ; 
Soft  Syrens  sing,  and  smile  Resistance  dead ; 
Ixion's  fate  forgot,  the  busy  croud 
Pursue  a  Juno,  but  embrace  a  cloud. 
From  Lethes'  stream  is  filled  the  flowing  bowl, 
And  sweet  oblivion  whelms  the  drowsy  soul ; 
No  screams  of  murdered  Time  its  slumbers  break, 
And  lounging  Indolence  forgets  to  wake. 
Ease  for  a  while  may  charm  the  dormant  mind, 
Pervert  our  reason,  and  our  judgment  blind ; 
But,  soon,  alas  !  the  magick  spell  will  fly, 
And  tears  bedew  Reflection's  downcast  eye. 
Corrosive  years  one  downy  hour  repay ; 
The  bud,  too  forward,  blossoms  to  decay, 

With  cherished  flames  the  youthful  bosom  glows, 
And  Hope  luxuriant  in  the  hot-bed  grows. 
Self-flattering  Fancy  here  her  influence  sheds, 
Young  genius  blossoms,  and  its  foliage  spreads ; 
But  if  too  fierce  the  sultry  splendours  shine, 
And  swelling  growth  distend  the  aspiring  vine, 
No  skilful  hand  the  excrescent  limbs  to  prune, 
At  morn  to  water,  and  to  shade  at  noon ; 
In  wildly-fertile  eiflorescence  rise 
The  encumbered  branches,  and  the  victim  dies. 

Thus  burning  skies  o'er  India's  arid  soil 
In  noblest  verdure  clothe  each  blooming  isle, 
While  sickly  vapours  taint  the  scorching  breeze, 
Awake*  the  earthquake,  and  convulse  the  seas ; 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  65 

The  thirsty  glebe  exhausts  each  purling  stream, 
And  Death  in  ambush  glistens  from  each  beam. 

But  nobler  souls  an  equal  temper  know, 
Nor  soar  too  vainly,  nor  descend  too  low. 
Heaven's  angry  bolt  first  strikes  the  mountain's  head, 
And  sweeping  torrents  drench  the  lowly  shed. 
Heroick  Worth,  while  nations  rise  and  fall, 
Securely  propped,  beholds  this  circling  ball ; 
Like  the  firm  nave,  which  nought  can  sink  or  raise, 
The  whirls  of  fortune's  wheel  unmoved  surveys. 

Ye  watchful  guardians  of  our  youthful  band, 
Your  worth  our  "praise,  your  cares  our  love  demand. 
Long  have  your  toils  the  parent's  office  graced, 
Formed  the  young  thought,  and  pruned  the  rising  taste. 
Infantile  genius  needs  the  fostering  hand, 
Its  buds  to  open,  and  its  flowers  expand  ; 
And  bounteous  Heaven  this  nursery  has  designed, 
To  rock  the  cradle  of  the  infant  mind. 
Long  have  you  slaked  the  thirst  of  ardent  youth 
From  this  clear  fountain  of  untainted  truth. 
Faithful  to  censure,  eager  to  commend, 
To  act  the  critick,  and  to  feel  the  friend ; 
Watchful  to  lend  unasking  Merit  aid, 
And  beckon  modest  Virtue  from  the  shade ; 
These  are  the  blessings,  which  your  smiles  bestow  ; 
These  are  the  wreathes,  that  crown  your  laureat  brow  ; 
And  these,  enrolled  on  Memory's  faithful  page, 
Fame  si  ill  transcribe,  and  sound  to  every  age. 
9 


66  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

And  when  grey  Time  shall  knit  the  wrinkled  brow, 
And  wintry  age  shall  shed  its  mantling  snow, 
Some  reverend  father  in  the  chair  of  state. 
Quivering  with  age,  and  venerably  great, 
Shall  cast  o'er  life  a  retrospective  view, 
And  bless  the  soil,  where  infant  greatness  grew  ; 
And  while  the  long  review  his  breast  shall  swell, 
Here  shall  his  mind  with  filial  fondness  dwell ; 
While  transport  glistens  from  the  falling  tear, 
And  Death,  grown  envious  at  the  sight,  draws  near, 
The  good  old  man,  with  this  expiring  sigh, 
*'  Let  Harvard  live,"  shall  clasp  his  hands  and  die. 

This  sacred  temple  and  this  classick  grove 
Proclaim  your  merits,  and  our  grief  approve. 
The  painter's  skill  may  shade  the  glooms  of  fate, 
And  fancied  woe  the  griefless  eye  dilate  ; 
We  spurn  the  glaring  tapestry  of  art ; 
Truth's  noblest  pencil  is  a  grateful  heart. 
Long  may  your  days  in  gay  succession  run  ; 
Long  may  you  bask  in  Fortune's  smiling  sun ; 
Long  o'er  these  happy  seats  may  you  preside, 
The  bo»ast  of  Harvard,  and  your  country's  pride. 
Our  filial  bosoms  shall  your  names  revere ; 
Truth  has  a  tongue,  and  gratitude  a  tear. 
Waves  crowd  on  waves,  on  ages  ages,  roll, 
And  we  retire,  that  you  may  reach  the  goaK 
Here  for  a  while  your  busy  feet  may  rove, 
To  cull  the  flowers  of  this  Lycean  grove. 
Like  you,  we  passed  the  distant  threshold  by, 
While  Hope  looked  forward  with  a  wishful  eye  j 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  67 

Like  you,  we  gazed  on  Fame's  immortal  door ; 
You  tread  the  path,  that  we  have  trod  before ; 
And  scarce  the  sun  his  annual  tour  has  made 
Since  we  with  joy  this  solemn  day  surveyed. 
But,  ah  !  our  joy  was  but  an  April  morn ; 
The  rose  has  faded  and  has  left  the  thorn. 
Feel  then  the  wound,  before  you  meet  the  dart ; 
Like  us  you  follow,  and,  like  us,  must  part. 

The  bloom  of  youthful  years  is  doomed  to  fade ; 
The  brightest  noon  a  sullen  cloud  may  shade  ; 
And  we,  my  friends,  to  whom  each  bliss  is  given, 
This  happy  spot,  this  vicinage  of  heaven, 
Each  painful  sense,  each  tender  woe  endure, 
And  bleed  with  wounds,  which  Friendship  cannot  cure. 
While  gaily  sparkling  from  the  realms  of  night, 
Smiles  the  fair  morn,  and  spreads  her  golden  light, 
Grown  dark  with  fate,  the  solemn  skies  appear, 
And  distant  thunders  strike  the  astonished  ear ; 
The  tempest  lowers,  the  rapid  moments  fly, 
And  moistening  friendship  melts  in  every  eye. 

Oft,  when  employed  in  life's  prospective  view, 
This  gloomy  hour  a  mournful  tribute  drew. 
Oft  have  we  shuddered  at  this  solemn  day, 
And  gazed  till  tears  had  dimmed  the  visual  ray. 
Now  the  dark  scene,  which  Fancy  once  surveyed, 
And  o'er  our  brightest  pleasures  cast  a  shade, 
Bids  the  warm  stream  of  real  grief  to  flow, 
The  silent  elegy  of  speechless  woe. 
Long  have  we  wished  this  painful  day  removed  ; 
Affection  framed  the  wish,  and  Hope  approved. 


68  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Long  have  we  hugged  the  dream  with  fond  deceit, 

And  strove  by  tears  to  intercede  with  Fate. 

But,  ah  !  in  vain,  for  now  the  rapid  sun 

Four  annual  circuits  through  the  heaven  has  run ; 

In  our  sad  ears  the  solemn  dirges  ring, 

And  our  last  hope  is  flitting  on  the  wing. 

With  swifter  course  the  new-born  moments  fly  ; 
Here  wipe  the  tear,  suppress  the  bursting  sigh. 

Oft  have  we  rambled  o'er  the  flowery  plain, 
And  freely  followed  Pleasure's  smiling  train ; 
Oft  have  we  wandered  o'er  the  breezy  hill, 
And  traced  the  windings  of  the  purling  rill ; 
Where  the  dark  forest  glooms  the  silent  walk, 
Has  prattling  Echo  learnt  of  us  to  talk  ; 
Oft  on  the  river's  flowery  banks  we've  ranged, 
To  all  the  woes  of  future  life  estranged  ; 
Oft  on  the  scenes,  which  airy  Fancy  drew, 
We  fondly  gazed  and  fondly  thought  them  true. 
But  now  no  more  these  social  sports  delight ; 
No  song  the  ear,  no  landscape  charms  the  sight. 
From  grove  to  grove  the  airy  songsters  play, 
All  nature  blooms,  and  smiling  heaven  looks  gay  ; 
But,  ah  !  for  us  no  verdant  meadow  blooms ; 
No  songsters  warble,  and  no  sun  illumes  ; 
These  can  but  lend  another  shade  to  woe, 
And  add  new  tortures  to  the  poignant  blow. 
No  more  we  mingle  in  the  sportive  scene, 
The  gay  palestra,  and  the  tufted  green. 

The  fatal  sheers  the  slender  thread  divide, 
\ncl  sculptured  urns  the  mouldering  relicks  hide  ; 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  69 

Far  deeper  wounds  our  bleeding  breasts  display, 

And  Fate's  most  deadly  weapon  is — to-day. 

To-day  we  part ;  ye  throbs  of  anguish,  rise, 

Flow,  all  ye  tears,  and  heave,  ye  rending  sighs ! 

Come,  lend  to  Friendship's  stifled  voice  relief, 

And  melt  the  lonely  hermitage  of  grief. 

Sighs,  though  in  vain,  may  tell  the  world  we  feel, 

And  tears  may  soothe  the  wound,  they  cannot  heal. 

To  day  we  launch  from  this  delightful  shore, 

And  Mirth  shall  cheer,  and  Friendship  charm  no  more ; 

We  spread  the  sail  o'er  life's  tumultuous  tide ; 

Ambition's  helm,  let  prudent  Reason  guide ; 

Let  grey  Experience,  with  her  useful  chart, 

Direct  the  wishes  of  the  youthful  heart. 

Where'er  kind  Heaven  shall  bend  our  wide  career, 

Still  let  us  fan  the  flame,  we've  kindled  here  ; 

Still  let  our  bosoms  burn  with  equal  zeal, 

And  teach  old  age  the  warmth  of  youth  to  feel. 

But  ere  the  faithful  moment  bids  us  part, 

Rends  every  nerve,  and  racks  the  throbbing  heart, 

Let  us,  while  here  our  fondest  prayer  ascends, 

Swear  on  this  altar,  "that  we  will  be  friends  I" 

But,  ah  !  behold  the  fatal  moment  fly ; 

Time  cuts  the  knot,  he  never  could  untie. 

Adieu  !  ye  scenes,  where  noblest  pleasures  dwell  1 

Ye  happy  seats,  ye  sacred  walls,  farewell ! 

Adieu,  ye  guides,  and  thou  enlightened  sire ; 

A  long  farewell  resounds  our  plaintive  lyre  ; 

Adieu,  ye  youths,  that  press  our  tardy  heel ; 

Long  may  it  be,  ere  you  such  griefs  shall  feel ! 

Wild  horrors  swim  around  my  startling  view  ; 

Fate  prompts  my  tongue,  and,  oh  !  my  friends,  adieu. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 


The  following  Poem  was  delivered  on  Commencement  day,  at  Cambridge,  when 
Mr.  Paine  proceeded  Bachelor  of  Arts,  July  1792. 


THE  NATURE  AND  PROGRESS  OF  LIBERTY. 

HAIL,  sacred  Freedom  !  heaven-born  goddess,  hail ! 

Friend  of  the  pen,  the  sickle  and  the  sail ! 

From  thee  the  power  of  liberal  thought  we  trace, 

The  great  enlargement  of  the  human  race. 

Thou  hast  recalled,  to  man's  astonished  sight, 

Those  joys,  that  spring  from  choice  of  doing  right ; 

That  sacred  blessing,  man's  peculiar  pride, 

To  follow  Reason,  where  she  ought  to  guide ; 

Nor  urged  by  power  the  devious  path  to  run, 

Which  Reason  warns  our  erring  feet  to  shun. 

What  Reason  prompts,  'tis  Freedom  to  fulfil ; 

This  guides  the  conduct,  that  directs  the  will ; 

That  with  the  "  rights  of  man"  from  Heaven  descends, 

And  this  with  Heaven's  own  shield  those  rights  defends  ; 

Bound  by  no  laws,  but  Truth's  extensive  plan, 

Which  rules  all  rationals  and  social  man ; 

Essential  laws,  which  guide  hi  wide  career 

The  rapid  motions  of  the  boundless  sphere. 

There  Order  bids  the  circling  planets  run 

Through  heaven's  vast  suburbs  round  the  blazing  sun ; 

Directs  an  atom,  as  it  rules  the  pole, 

Reigns  through  all  worlds,  and  shines  the  system's  soul ; 

This  moves  the  vast  machine,  unknown  to  jar, 

And  links  an  insect  with  the  farthest  star. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  71 

Thus  Freedom  here  the  civil  system  binds, 
Cements  our  friendships,  and  illumes  our  minds. 
She  bids  the  varying  parts  of  life  cohere, 
The  sun  and  centre  of  the  social  sphere. 
Freedom  in  joys  of  equal  life  delights, 
Forbids  encroachment  on  another's  rights, 
Contemns  the  tyrant's  proud  imperial  sway, 
Nor  leaves  the  subject  for  the  sceptre's  prey. 
She  curbs  ambition,  bold  incursion  checks, 
Nor  more  the  palace,  than  the  vale  protects. 
From  her  the  noblest  joys  of  mortals  spring  ; 
She  makes  the  cot  a  throne,  the  peasant  king. 
Her  presence  smooths  the  rugged  paths  of  woe, 
And  bids  the  rock  with  streams  of  pleasure  flow. 
No  raven's  notes  her  sacred  groves  annoy ; 
There  Sickness  smiles,  and  Want  exults  with  joy, 
There  never  drooped  the  willow  of  Despair, 
Nor  pressed  the  footstep  of  corroding  Care. 

Hard  is  the  task,  which  civil  rulers  bear, 
To  give  each  subject  freedom's  equal  share ; 
But  still  more  arduous  to  the  statesmen's  ken, 
To  check  the  passions  of  licentious  men. 
The  licensed  robber,  and  the  knave  in  power, 
Whose  grasping  avarice  strips  the  peasant's  bower^ 
Would  glean  an  Andes'  topmost  rock  for  wealth, 
And  feed,  like  leeches,  on  their  country's  health. 
The  man,  who  barters  influence  for  applause, 
Libels  the  smile,  and  spurns  the  frown  of  laws. 
Licentious  morals  breed  disease  of  state, 
And  snatch  the  scabbard  from  the  sword  of  fate- 


72  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

These  were  the  bane,  which  ancient  ages  knew ; 
On  freedom's  stalk  the  engrafted  scion  grew. 

Long  had  the  clouds  of  ignorance  gloomed  mankind* 
And  Error  held  the  sceptre  of  the  mind  ; 
Long  had  the  tyrant  kept  the  world  in  awe, 
Swords  turned  the  scale,  and  nods  enacted  law ; 
But  where  mild  Freedom  crowns  the  happy  shore, 
Law  guides  the  king,  and  kings  the  law  no  more. 
No  threatening  sword  the  forum's  tongue  restrains  ; 
No  monarch  courts  the  mask,  when  Reason  reigns. 
Here  glows  the  press  with  Freedom's  sacred  zeal, 
The  great  Briareus  of  the  publick  weal. 

Dire  wars,  those  civil  earthquakes,  long  had  raged, 
Seas  burst  on  seas,  and  world  with  world  engaged ; 
Freedom  allured  the  struggling  hero's  eye, 
Of  arms  the  laurel — of  the  world  the  sigh. 

But,  ah  !  in  vain  the  clarion  sounds  afar, 
Vain  the  dread  pomp,  and  vain  the  storm  of  war ; 
In  vain  dread  Havock  saw  her  millions  die ; 
Vain  the  soft  pearl,  that  melts  the  virgin's  eye  ; 
Vain  the  last  groan  of  grey  expiring  age, 
To  move  the  marble  of  despotick  rage  ! 
In  that  dark  realm,  where  science  never  shone, 
On  earth's  own  basis  stands  the  tyrant's  throne. 
One  murder  marks  the  assassin's  odious  name, 
But  millions  damn  the  hero  into  fame  ; 
And  one  proud  monarch  from  the  throne  was  hurled, 
That  rival  sceptres  might  dispute  the  world. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  73 

Freedom  beheld  new  foes  the  old  replace, 
And  ne'er  extinct  the  despot's  hydra  race  ; 
Still  some  usurper  for  the  crown  survived ; 
She  stabbed  a  Caesar,  but  Augustus  lived. 
So  meanly  abject  was  the  vassaled  earth, 
Rome  blazed  a  bonfire  for  a  Nero's  mirth  ; 
While,  like  the  insect  round  the  taper's  blaze, 
The  crowd  beheld  it  with  a  thoughtless  gaze. 
No  daring  patriot  stretched  his  arm  to  save 
His  country's  freedom  from  oblivion's  grave  ; 
The  slave,  who  once  opposed  the  crown  in  vain, 
Found  a  new  rivet  in  his  former  chain. 

Thus  raged  the  horrors  of  despotick  sway, 
Till  Albion  welcomed  freedom's  dawning  ray ; 
Which,  like  the  herald  of  returning  light, 
Beamed  through  the  clouds  of  intellectual  night. 
But  here  environed  was  the  human  path, 
Cramped  the  free  mind,  and  chained  the  choice  of  faith. 
Religious  despots  formed  the  impious  plan, 
To  lord  it  o'ev  the  consciences  of  man. 

This  galling  yoke  our  sires  could  bear  no  more ; 
They  fled,  for  freedom,  to  Columbia's  shore. 
Truth  for  their  object,  Virtue  for  their  guide, 
They  braved  the  dangers  of  an  unknown  tide. 
The  patriarch's  God  of  old  preserved  the  ark, 
And  freedom's  guardian  watched  the  patriot's  bark. 
The  shrine  of  freedom  and  of  truth  to  rear, 
They  left  those  scenes,  which  social  life  endear; 
To  Britain's  courts  preferred  the  savage  den, 
The  free-born  Indian  to  dependent  men. 
10 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

For  this,  the  parting  tear  of  Friendship  fell ; 
For  this,  they  bade  their  parent  soil  farewell ! 

In  these  dark  wilds  they  fixed  the  deep  laid  stone, 
On  which  fair  Freedom  since  has  reared  her  throne. 
But  still  a  cloud  their  civil  views  confined, 
And  gloomed  the  prospect  of  the  pious  mind ; 
While  Britain  claimed  with  laws  our  rights  to  lead. 
And  faith  was  fettered  by  a  bigot's  creed. 

Then  mental  freedom  first  her  power  displayed, 
And  called  a  Mayhew  to  religion's  aid. 
For  this  dear  truth,  he  boldly  led  the  van, 
That  private  judgment  was  the  right  of  man. 
Mayhew  disdained  that  soul-contracting  view 
Of  sacred  truth,  which  zealous  Frenzy  drew  ; 
He  sought  religion's  fountain  head  to  drink, 
And  preached  what  others  only  dared  to  think  ; 
He  loosed  the  mind  from  Superstition's  awe, 
And  broke  the  sanction  of  Opinion's  law. 
Truth  gave  his  mind  the  electrick's  subtle  spring* 
A  Chatham's  lightning,  and  a  Milton's  wing. 
Mayhew  hath  cleansed  the  bigot's  filmy  eye ; 
Mayhew  explored  religion's  native  sky, 
Where  ever  radiant  in  immortal  youth, 
Shines  the  clear  sun  of  inexhausted  truth  ; 
Where  time's  vast  ocean,  like  a  drop  would  seem, 
The  world  a  pebble,  and  yon  sun  a  beam. 
He  struck  that  spark,  whose  genial  warmth  we  feel 
In  heavenly  charity's  fraternal  zeal. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  7$ 

Soon  blazed  the  flame,  with  kindling  ardour  ran, 
And  gave  new  vigour  to  the  breast  of  man. 
Swift  as  loud  torrents  from  a  mountain's  brow 
Plunge  down  the  sky,  and  whelm  the  world  below ; 
Our  patriots  bade  the  vast  idea  roll, 
And  round  Columbia  waft  a  common  soul. 
Freedom  resumed  her  throne ;  her  offspring  rose, 
Braved  the  dread  fury  of  despotick  foes, 
Explored  the  source  whence  all  our  glory  ran, 
Columbia's  freedom  and  the  "  rights  of  man ;" 
Europa's  wish,  the  tyrant's  dread  and  rage, 
The  noblest  epoch  on  the  historick  page ! 

Hail,  virtuous  ancestors  !  seraphick  minds  1 
Heroes  in  faith,  and  Freedom's  noblest  friends  I 
With  filial  fervour  grateful  memory  calls, 
To  bless  the  founders  of  those  sacred  walls  ! 
You  gave  to  age  a  staff — a  guide  to  youth, 
Yon  fount  of  science,  and  that  lamp  of  truth. 
Where  Knowledge  beams  her  soul-enlivening  ray, 
There  Freedom  spreads  her  heaven-descended  sway. 
Learning's  an  antidote  of  lawless  power ; 
Enlighten  man,  and  tyrants  reign  no  more  ! 

Hail,  sacred  Liberty  1  tremendous  sound  I 
Which  strikes  the  despot's  heart  with  awe  profound ; 
Bursts  with  more  horrour  on  the  tyrant's  ears, 
Than  all  the  thunders  of  the  embattled  spheres ; 
More  dreadful  than  the  fiend,  whose  noxious  breath 
Consigns  whole  nations  to  the  realms  of  death ; 
Than  all  those  tortures,  which  Belshazzar  felt 
Convulse  his  tottering  knees,  his  bosom  melt, 


76  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

When  on  the  wall  the  sacred  finger  drew 
Jehovah's  vengeance  to  the  monarch's  view  ; 
His  visage  Terrour's  palest  veil  o'ercast, 
And  Guilt  with  wildest  horrour  stood  aghast  1 
Such  direful  tremours  shake  the  tyrant's  soul, 
When  Liberty  unfolds  her  radiant  scroll. 

Hail,  sacred  Liberty,  divinely  fair  ! 
Columbia's  great  palladium,  Gallia's  prayer  ! 
From  heaven  descend  to  free  this  fettered  globe ; 
Unclasp  the  helmet,  and  adorn  the  robe. 
May  struggling  France  her  ancient  freedom  gain ; 
May  Europe's  sword  oppose  her  rights  in  vain. 
The  dauntless  Franks  once  spurned  the  tyrant's  power 
May  Frenchmen  live,  and  Gallia  be  no  more  ! 

May  Africk's  sons  no  more  be  heard  to  groan, 
Lament  their  exile  nor  their  fate  bemoan ! 
Torn  from  the  pleasures  of  their  native  clime, 
Each  sigh  rebellion — and  each  tear  a  crime, 
Their  only  solace,  but  to  brood  on  woes, 
Or,  on  the  down  of  rocks  their  limbs  repose  ! 
Weak  with  despair,  slow  tottering  with  toil, 
Bleeding  with  wounds,  and  gasping  on  the  soil, 
No  friend,  no  pity,  cheers  the  hapless  slave, 
No  sleep  but  death,  no  pillow  hut  the  grave. 
Blush,  despots,  blush  !  who,  fired  by  sordid  ore, 
Like  pirates,  plunder  Africk's  swarming  shore  ; 
To  western  worlds  the  shackled  slave  trepan, 
And  basely  traffick  in  "  the  souls  of  man  1" 
Vile  monsters,  hear  !  Time  spreads  his  rapid  wings, 
And  now  the  fated  hour  hi  prospect  brings, 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  77 

When  your  proud  turrets  shall  to  earth  be  thrown? 
And  Freedom  triumph  in  the  torrid  zone ! 
May  tyranny  from  every  throne  be  hurled, 
And  make  no  more  a  scaffold  of  the  World  ! 

Where'er  the  sunbeam  gilds  the  rolling  hour, 
Wings  the  fleet  gale,  and  blossoms  in  the  flower ; 
May  Freedom's  glorious  reign  o'er  realms  prevail, 
Where  Cook's  bright  fancy  never  spread  the  sail. 
Long  may  the  laurel  to  the  ermine  yield, 
The  stately  palace  to  the  fertile  field ; 
The  fame  of  Burke  in  dark  oblivion  rust, 
His  pen  a  meteor — and  his  page  the  dust ; 
Faction  no  more  the  enlightened  world  alarm, 
Nor  snatch  the  infant  from  the  parent's  arm ; 
May  Peace,  descending  like  the  mystick  dove, 
Which  once  announced  the  great  Immanual's  love, 
On  Freedom's  brow  her  olive  garland  bind, 
And  shed  her  blessings  round  on  all  mankind  ! 


The  following  Pieces  are  found  among  Mr.  Paine's  loose  papers.  They  were 
written,  some  at  an  earlier,  and  some  at  a  later  period,  during  his  academical 
lite. 


A  PASTORAL. 

oo  fair  a  form  was  ne'er  by  Heaven  designed 
But  with  its  charms  to  enslave  and  bless  mankind. 
So  pure  a  mind,  such  high  unrivalled  worthy 
But  to  recall  a  paradise  on  earth  ! 


78  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Then,  ye  fair  Nine,  the  trembling  muse  inspire ; 
In  raptured  notes  awake  her  feeble  lyre  ; 
Now  swell  your  boldest  strains  !  Maria's  praise 
Claims  all  the  majesty  of  Homer's  lays. 

MORNING. 

Now  Phosphor  swells  the  clarion  note  of  mom, 
And  all  the  hostile  clouds  of  night  are  gone  ; 
Ambrosial  zephyrs  ope  the  fragrant  flowers, 
And  rosy  Health  attends  the  jocund  hours. 
The  Morn,  with  pearly  feet  advancing,  leads 
Joy's  smiling  train,  and  blushes  o'er  the  meads. 
The  golden  flood  of  light  o'er  eastern  hills 
She  pours,  and  every  breast  with  rapture  fills. 
The  ocean,  sheathed  in  light's  effulgent  arms, 
Rolls  his  high  surges  bright  with  borrowed  charms. 
The  little  hills  around  their  carols  sing ; 
The  vales  with  soft  mellifluous  echoes  ring ; 
The  early  lark  attunes  her  matin  lay, 
And  vocal  forests  hail  the  approach  of  day. 

The  vigorous  huntsman  leaves  his  downy  bed, 
And  mounted  swiftly  scours  along  the  mead. 
Hark  !  the  shrill  clarion's  winding  note  resounds ; 
Hark  !  the  air  trembles  with  the  cry  of  hounds. 
The  raging  wolves  through  gloomy  forests  prowl, 
The  tawny  lions  through  the  meadows  howl. 
Lo  !  o'er  the  fields  Maria  bends  her  way  ; 
The  gazing  hounds  forget  their  trembling  prey ; 
The  grateful  woods  repeat  Maria's  name, 
And  all  the  savage  race,  inspired,  grow  tame. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  79 

The  youthful  shepherd,  who  had  housed  his  flock 
Within  the  dark  Accesses  of  a  rock, 
To  screen  them  from  the  wolf's  resistless  jaw, 
Needs  now  no  crook  to  keep  his  foe  in  awe ; 
For,  while  his  notes  Maria's  name  resound, 
The  wolf  no  more  infests  the  peaceful  ground. 

In  beauty  clad,  more  beauteous  than  the  morn, 
The  fair  Maria  trips  the  dewy  lanvn  ,• 
The  ambroisal  zephyrs,  from  each  meadow,  seek, 
To  steal  new  perfumes  from  her  fragrant  cheek ; 
Celestial  Virtue  guides  her  wandering  feet, 
And  Science  courts  her  to  her  fair  retreat. 
Here  shall  the  rose  grow,  free  from  every  thorn, 
And  here  her  life  be  fair,  be  sweet  as  morn. 

NOON. 

Now  the  fierce  coursers  of  the  sultry  day 
Breath  from  their  nostrils  the  meridian  ray ; 
Beneath  such  heat  the  landscape  faints  around ; 
The  birds  forget  to  sing,  the  woods  to  sound ; 
The  withered  rose  forgets  perfumes  to  yield, 
And  murmuring  brooks  mourn  o'er  the  drooping  field. 

The  sprightly  lambs,  which  in  the  morning  played. 
And  near  a  fount  their  fleecy  form  surveyed, 
On  the  green  tuft,  the  limpid  stream  o'erflows, 
Subdued  by  heat,  their  weary  limbs  repose. 

The  sweating  ploughman  leaves  his  sultry  toil, 
To  quench  his  thirst  from  crystal  streams,  that  boil 


80  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

O'er  the  rough  pebbles,  which  incessant  chide, 
As  o'er  the  fields  they  in  meanders  glide. 

The  love-sick  swain  now  leaves  his  drooping  flock, 
And  seeks  retreat  beneath  some  shelving  rock, 
Which  Spring's  fair  hand,  with  fairest  flowers,  has  graced ; 
Here  he  retires  the  heat  of  day  to  waste. 

All  Nature  droops ;  no  joy  the  meadow  yields  : 
How  languid  is  the  green,  which  graced  the  fields  ! 
But  see,  Maria  comes,  by  zephyrs  fanned ; 
See  how  the  gales  the  enlivening  flowers  expand. 
Spontaneous  roses  in  her  footsteps  spring ; 
The  fields  revive,  the  cheerful  warblers  sing ; 
The  drooping  forest  now  the  lyre  resumes, 
In  fair  Maria's  praise  each  landscape  blooms  ; 
Now  tears  of  joy  array  the  smiling  lawn, 
And  soaring  larks  would  fondly  think,  'twas  morn.. 

EVENING. 

Retiring  day  now  blushes  o'er  the  heaven, 
And  slow  in  solemn  brown  brings  on  the  even ; 
Now  silent  dews  along  the  grass  distil, 
And  all  the  air  with  their  sweet  fragrance  fill ; 
Now  chaste  Diana,  with  her  silver  train, 
In  her  bright  chariot  rising  quits  the  main  ; 
Now  all  the  stars  in  bright  confusion  roll, 
And  with  their  lustre  gild  the  glowing  pole. 
The  happy  swains  now  seek  the  ambrosial  groves, 
On  their  sweet  pipes  to  warble  forth  their  loves, 
'Twas  here  reclined  beneath  the  leafy  shade, 
While  busy  thought  Maria's  form  surveyed, 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  SI 

The  artless  ****  with  his  rude  pipe  retired, 

To  sing  those  carols,  which  his  love  inspired. 

His  pipe,  though  rude,  ne'er  swelled  a  treacherous  lay : 

His  pipe  and  bosom  owned  Maria's  sway. 

'Twas  here  he  taught  the  woods  her  name  to  sound, 

And  her  soft  praises  echoed  all  around. 

Not  far  retired,  the  object  of  his  love 
With  her  sweet  strains  enchanted  all  the  grove  j 
While  bending  forests  listened  to  the  tale, 
And  her  sweet  notes  re-echoed  o'er  the  vale. 
A  nightingale,  who,  from  a  neighbouring  spray, 
Attentive  heard  Maria's  matchless  lay, 
With  envy  saw  the  well  deserved  meed, 
Bloom  with  new  honours  to  adorn  her  head. 
She  thrice  essayed  to  emulate  the  lay, 
And  thrice  her  wandering  thoughts  were  led  astray* 
Charmed  by  the  musick  of  Maria's  song, 
Her  heedless  notes  forgot  to  pass  along. 
A  sudden  quivering  seized  her  tender  throat ; 
She  ceased  to  breathe  her  sweetly  plaintive  note ; 
Her  languid  wings  she  fluttered  on  the  spray, 
And  at  the  shrine  of  Envy  sighed  her  life  away. 

Thus,  fair  Maria,  in  your  wondrous  praise, 
The  youthful  muse  has  sung  her  feeble  lays ; 
And  though  your  name  is  all  that  in  them  shines, 
Forgive  the  errors  of  her  artless  lines. 
Your  true,  conspicuous  merit  e'en  will  claim 
A  rank  immortal  on  the  list  of  fame. 
11 


82  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

As  on  one  tree,  when  sin  had  not  beguiled, 
Blossoms  and  fruits  in  sweet  confusion  smiled. 
So  youth's  gay  flowerets  in  your  features  bloom, 
And  wisdom's  sacred  rays  your  mind  illume. 


REFLECTIONS    ON    A    LONELY    HILL,    WHICH    COMMANDED    THE 
PROSPECT    OF    A    BURYING    GROUND. 

HERE  museful  Thought  and  Contemplation  dwell ; 

Here  Silence  spreads  her  horrors  round ; 
Hark  !  the  dull  tinkling  stream  from  yonder  cell ! 

The  soul  recoils  at  every  sound ! 

Startled,  I  view  new  phantoms  round  me  rise, 

And  seem  to  chide  my  dull  delay ; 
View  yonder  spot  where  human  greatness  lies  ; 

Thus  all  must  moulder  and  decay. 

Hark  !  from  afar  the  solemn  sounding  bell 

Fills  the  dull  ear  with  plaints  of  woe ; 
*Tis  Death  awakes,  and  spreads  the  warning  knell  j 

Through  the  sad  gates  the  mourners  flow. 

The  distant  landscape  fades ;  thick  glooms  arise  ; 

Twilight  the  sombre  scene  surveys ; 
While  tears,  in  dew  drops,  glisten  in  her  eyes. 
^  And  faintly  shroud  her  pitying  rays. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  83 

When  blooming  spring  adorns  the  verdant  tnead, 

Zephyrs  arise  from  every  grove ; 
The  notes  of  joy  along  the  woodland  spread, 

And  breathe  the  fragrant  sweets  of  love. 

O'er  hill,  o'er  dale  the  nimble  huntsmen  bound, 

And  wake  the  morn  to  health's  employ ; 
With  variegated  flowers  the  mead  is  crowned ; 

Spring  wantons  in  the  bowers  of  joy. 

But  sultry  summer  wings  the  Sirian  ray, 

Whose  heat  subdues  the  blooming  field ; 
The  fair  blown  flowerets  wither  and  decay ; 

The  trees  unripened  fruitage  yield. 

Now  the  black  tempest  gathers  from  afar  ; 

With  horror  all  the  horizon's  bound ; 
Now  clashing  clouds  along  the  ether  war, 

And  pour  their  inundations  round. 


VV  HEN  ****'s  graces  bid  the  pencil  break 
Through  Nature's  barriers,  and  the  canvass  speak ; 
Lo !  stooping  Time  stands  gazing  at  the  form, 
And  e'en  his  frigid  limbs  with  love  grow  warm. 
But  when  her  lofty  muse  commands  the  page 
To  soothe  the  passions,  or  inspire  with  rage, 
Charmed  with  each  line  the  hoary  despot  stands, 
And  ruin's  uplift  scythe  drops  from  his  hands. 


84  COLLEGE  EXERCISES, 


FRAGMENT. 

1  HE  splendid  morn  with  flaming  light  had  graced 

The  gold  fringed  clouds,  the  curtains  of  the  east  ,• 

Invited  by  the  breeze  to  taste  the  sweets 

Which  breathe  in  Harvard's  venerable  seats, 

Beneath  her  flowery  groves  and  bowers  I  strayed ; 

Morpheus  had  just  forsook  the  happy  shade  ; 

He  saw  me,  rambling  o'er  the  morning  dew, 

And  in  my  face  enraged  his  poppies  threw ; 

Pressed  with  the  load,  my  heavy  eyelids  close, 

And  in  the  shade  my  drowsy  limbs  repose. 

When  to  my  eyes  an  aged  dame  appeared, 

Gazed  on  the  scene  and  treasured  all  she  heard. 

Upon  her  brow  deep  thought  in  furrows  lies, 

And  wild  anxiety  distorts  her  eyes ; 

Me  thus  accosting  in  my  cool  resort ; 

"  I  come,"  says  she,  "  from  Wisdom's  brilliant  court, 

"  Where  fair  Maria,  of  immortal  name, 

"  Holds  the  high  sceptre  with  unbounded  fame. 

"  My  name's  Investigation,  fondly  sought, 

u  Where  Truth  can  please  the  mind,  or  warm  the  thought. 

*'  Then  follow  in  my  steps  to  yonder  shade  ; 

u  There  stands  a  mirror  to  tjie  eye  displayed ; 

**  ^n  it  each  virtue  of  the  deepest  breast, 

"  And  every  vice  and  fault  appear  exprest. 

"  'Twas  there  Maria  bade  me  lead  your  eyes, 

«  To  amend  each  error,  and  to  make  you  wise," 

My  willing  hand  then  to  the  path  she  drew  ; 

0 

J  fondly  bade  to  vice  a  long  adieu  ! 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  85 

We  lost  the  matin  carol  of  the  lark, 

And  entered  in  the  grove  ; — 'twas  still  and  dark. 

A  solemn  silence  sat  on  every  scene, 

And  envious  night  veiled  spring's  delightful  mien. 

In  mazy  rout  we  rove  the  winding  road, 

And  oft  retrace  the  path  we  once  have  trod, 

'Till  through  the  transient  gloom  a  ray  of  light, 

From  the  broad  mirror,  beamed  upon  our  sight. 

Above  a  running  brook,  the  mirror's  gleam, 

With  bright  reflection,  tinged  the  glassy  stream ; 

Hence  light,  emerging  round,  the  grove  displayed, 

'Till  faintly  dim  it  mingled  with  the  shade. 

Cheered  by  the  feeble  ray  through  many  a  maze, 

We  turn  our  feet  and  reach  the  mirror's  blaze. 

Fair  Truth,  the  spotless  offspring  of  the  sky, 

Hayed  in  a  robe  of  flowing  white,  stood  by ; 

With  gentle  voice  she  thus  accosts  my  guide  : 

"  Hail,  honoured  maid,  fair  Reason's  noblest  pride ! 

"  Oft  hast  thou  won  the  prize  of  bliss  supreme, 

"  And  these  fond  warbling  groves  chose  thee  their  theme ; 

"  And  oft  have  I,  enticed  by  fond  regard, 

"  The  stainless  laurel  for  your  brow  prepared. 

"  But  say,  fair  nymph,  whence  come  you  thus  again  ? 

"  What  happy  mortal  follows  in  your  train  ?" 

To  whom  my  guide,  "  Where  fair  Maria's  couit 

"  For  exiled  Wisdom  opes  a  kind  resort, 

"  Thence  I  return,  at  her  command,  once  more 

"  These  spotless  groves  and  blest  retreats  to  explore  ; 

"  To  teach  this  youth  thy  undissembling  lore ; 

"  In  thy  pure  mirror  to  display  each  stain 

<c  Which  blots  his  bosom,  or  what  -virtues  reign* 


86  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Then  heavenly  Truth  her  magick  sceptre  moved, 
And  from  the  mirror  all  its  gloss  removed. 
The  undazzled  eye  could  now  unhurt  behold 
The  inmost  secrets  of  the  breast  unfold. 


The  following  lines,  I  am  inclined  to  think,  make  a  part  of  the  "Invention  of 
Letters,"  as  that  poem  was  first  designed  by  Mr.  Paine ; — hut,  because  my 
opinion  is  without  other  evidence,  than  such  as  arises  from  the  subject,  I  place 
the  fragment  here,  rather  than  in  a  note  to  the  "  Invention  of  Letters." 

OAGE  Cadmus,  hail !  to  thee  the  Grecians  owed 
The  art  and  science,  that  from  letters  flowed ; 
To  thy  great  mind  indebted  ages  stand, 
And  grateful  Learning  owns  thy  guardian  hand. 
Without  the  invention  of  a  written  tongue, 
E'en  Fame  herself  no  lasting  notes  had  sung  ; 
Thy  brow  she  crowns  with  tributary  bays, 
And  sounds  thy  glory  in  immortal  lays. 

Hark  !  a  swift  whirlwind  rushes  through  the  heaven  ; 
Before  its  wrath  the  stateliest  oaks  are  riven. 
Say  !  is  the  thunderbolt  from  Jove's  right  hand, 
Launched  on  the  earth  to  scourge  a  guilty  land  ? 
Say  !  have  the  embattled  winds,  in  eddies  whirled, 
Joined  their  whole  force  to  storm  the  shivering  world  ? 
Lo  !  bold  Demosthenes  advances  forth, 
His  voice,  like  thunder  bursting  from  the  north  ; 
Dread  Philip  hears,  and  trembles  from  afar ; 
Greece  springs  from  slumber  to  the  field  of  war. 
From  his  keen  eyes  the  livid  lightnings  dart, 
And  freedom's  flame  from  breast  to  breast  impart. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  87 


This  translation  of  the  Tityrus  was  made  by  Mr.  Paine  in  April  1790 ;— it  gives 
the  sense  of  Virgil  with  considerable  fidelity  and  elegance. 


TRANSLATION    OF    THE    FIRST    ECLOGUE    OF    VIRGIL. 
MELIB02US. 

W  HILE  you,  O  Tityrus,  beneath  the  shade, 
Which  the  broad  branches  of  this  beech  display, 
Devoid  of  care,  recline  your  peaceful  head, 
And  warble  on  your  pipe  the  sylvan  lay ; 
While  vocal  woods  to  your  enchantment  yield, 
And  Amaryllis'  praise  with  joy  resound, 
We  wander  far  from  home,  by  fate  compelled, 
And  leave  our  peaceful  cot,  our  native  ground. 

TITYRUS. 

These  are  the  blessings,  which  a  God  bestowed ; 
His  bounteous  hand  e'er  proved  a  God  to  me ; 
The  tender  lamb  oft  stains  his  shrine  with  blood, 
And  by  his  leave  my  herds  rove  o'er  the  lea ; 
Beneath  his  smiles  I  live  with  joy  and  ease, 
And  carol  on  my  pipe  whate'er  I  please. 

MELIBCEUS. 

I  envy  not  your  fortune,  but  rejoice, 
While  raging  tumults  in  the  country  reign, 
While  the  inveterate  sword  each  field  destroys, 
That  happiness  still  smiles  along  your  plains. 
But,  adverse  fate  still  frowns  where'er  I  go  ; 
My  fleecy  goats  with  pensive  gait  I  lead, 


88  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

And  this  I  drag  along  with  much  ado, 

Who  just  now  yeaning  in  the  hazle  shade, 

Departing  thence  forsook  her  tender  young, 

The  little  hope  of  my  decreasing  fold, 

On  the  cold  bosom  of  a  flinty  stone. 

Dire  omens  oft  have  all  these  ills  foretold ! 

I  should  have  seen,  of  reason  not  bereft, 

Yon  oak,  which  grew  so  fair,  by  lightening  riven, 

And  the  hoarse  raven,  croaking  from  the  left, 

Presage  the  vengeful  storm  of  frowning  heaven. 

But,  tell  me,  Tityrus,  who  is  this  God, 

That  on  his  favourite  swain  such  gifts  bestowed  J 

TITYRUS. 

A  fool  I  was  to  think  the  city  Rome, 
Whither  we  drive  our  tender  herds  from  home, 
Like  Mantua ;  thus  I  might  likewise  dare 
Bitches  with  whelps,  and  dams  with  kids  compare  5 
As  well  the  great  to  small  a  likeness  own ; 
But  regal  Rome  erects  her  lofty  throne, 
Above  the  cities,  which  around  her  shine, 
As  the  tall  cypress  o'er  the  creeping  vine. 

MELIB03US. 

What  mighty  cause  could  force  you  thus  from  home* 
And  urge  the  fond  desire  of  seeing  Rome  ? 

TITYRUS. 

Freedom  ;  whose  ray  at  length  disclosed  its  light, 
After  old  age  had  blossomed  all  its  white, 
Upon  my  hoary  chin  it  came  at  last, 
After  long  years  of  slavery  were  passed, 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  89 

After  my  love  for  Galatea  ceased, 

And  beauteous  Amaryllis  warmed  my  breast ; 

For  while  in  Galatea's  love  enchained, 

Nor  freedom's  hope,  nor  rural  cares  remained ; 

Though  frequent  victims  thinned  my  rising  fold, 

And  many  a  cheese  for  the  ingrate  city  sold, 

Yet  still  for  her  I  spent  whate'er  I  earned, 

And  still  with  empty  purse  I  home  returned. 

MELIB03US. 

Why  Amaryllis  to  the  gods  complained, 
And  why  the  trees  their  ripened  loads  sustained, 
I  cease  to  wonder ;  Tityrus,  for  thee 
Her  vows  were  made,  and  fruitage  bent  each  tree ; 
The  groves,  the  fountains  wish  for  your  return, 
And  'twas  for  this  the  pine's  tall  branches  mourn. 

TITYRUS. 

What  could  I  do  ?  Love  still  inflamed  my  heart, 
Nor  suffered  me  from  slavery  to  depart. 
Return  I  could  not,  for  a  gracious  ear 
The  auspicious  gods  there  granted  to  my  prayer ; 
There  first  I  saw  the  youth,  whose  altars  burn, 
With  grateful  incense  at  each  month's  return ; 
'Twas  there  he  kindly  gave  my  steers  again 
To  own  the  yoke,  my  herds  to  graze  the  plain. 

MELIBOeUS. 

O,  happy  sire,  for  you  your  fields  remain, 
For  you,  shall  plenty  smile  along  your  plain ; 
Although  the  marshy  bulrush  overspread, 
And  flinty  rocks  clothe  o'er  the  neighbouring  mead ; 
12 


90  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Yet  shall  no  dire  contagion  waste  your  flock, 

Nor  noxious  food  the  pregnant  kine  provoke. 

Fortunate  man  !  what  pleasures  on  you  wait ; 

Here,  where  the  well  known  river  winds  its  flood, 

Where  sacred  groves  embower  a  cool  retreat, 

Where  gales,  to  fan  you,  breathe  from  every  wood. 

From  yonder  hedge,  which  guards  the  neighbouring  ground, 

Where  Hyolean  bees  the  willow  grove  surround, 

Still  shall  their  murmurs  slumbering,  as  they  creep, 

O'er  the  closed  eyelids  spread  the  balm  of  sleep ; 

While  from  yon  craggy  rock  the  pruner's  song, 

Your  slumbers  shall  with  pleasing  dreams  prolong ; 

Nor  shall  the  dove  forget  her  cooing  note, 

And  from  the  elm  the  turtle's  musick  float. 

TITYRUS. 

Sooner  the  stag  the  earth  for  air  shall  change, 
The  fish  on  shore  retreating  ocean  cast ; 
Along  the  Tygris'  banks  the  German  range, 
The  exiled  Parthian  of  the  Arar  taste, 
Than  from  my  grateful  breast  his  angel  face, 
E'er  hoary  Time  be  able  to  erase, 

MELIB06US. 

But  we,  in  exile  from  our  native  lands, 
Shall  seek  retreat  in  Africk's  parching  sands ; 
To  swift  Oasis  or  to  Scythia  haste, 
Or  from  the  world  to  Britain's  cloistered  waste. 
And  must  we  thus  our  hapless  fate  deplore, 
And  ne'er  our  eyes  review  our  native  shore ; 
Or  shall  some  future  year  restore  my  throne, 
The  lowly  cot,  those  meadows  once  my  own  ? 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  91 

And  shall  the  impious  soldier  seize  my  field  ? 

For  the  barbarian  shall  the  harvest  yield 

Its  annual  products  ?  Ah  !  what  horrid  wars, 

And  scenes  of  misery  spring  from  civil  jars? 

For  whom  have  I  beneath  the  sultry  sun 

Thus  tilled  my  ground  ?  the  labour's  all  that's  mine, 

Go,  Melibceus,  haste,  your  pear-trees  }irune, 

In  beauteous  order  plant  the  tender  vine ; 

Go,  my  once  happy,  now  deserted  flock, 

No  more  beneath  the  verdant  grot  I  lay^ 

Nor  view  you  grazing  on  the  craggy  rock, 

No  more  upon  my  rural  pipe  I'll  play ; 

No  more  shall  you  upon  the  hillock's  top, 

The  flowery  shrub  or  bitter  osier  crop. 

TiTYRUS. 

With  me  at  least  to  night  lay  by  your  care, 
We  can  for  you  a  bed  of  leaves  prepare ; 
With  ripened  apples,  which  the  fields  afford, 
Chestnuts  and  milk  we'll  store  the  frugal  board. 
Now  the  blue  vapours  o'er  the  hills  arise, 
And  smokes  from  village  chimneys  paint  the  skies. 
Now  setting  Phoebus  meets  his  western  bed, 
And  from  the  hills  the  lengthening  shadows  spread. 


92  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 


TRANSLATION 

•  F  THE  TENTH  ODE,  SECOND  BOOK  OF  HORACE. 
Addressed  to  Liciuius. 

IF  o'er  life's  sea  your  bark  you'd  safely  guide, 
Trust  not  the  surges  of  its  stormy  tide  ; 
And  while  you  dread  the  tempest's  horrid  roar, 
Avoid  those  shoals,  which  threaten  from  the  shore. 

The  happy  few,  who  choose  the  golden  mean, 
Free  from  the  tattered  garb,  the  cell  obscene, 
From  all  the  world's  gay  pageantry  aloof, 
Spurn  the  rich  trappings  of  the  envied  roof. 

The  stately  ship,  which  cuts  the  glassy  wave, 
Is  oftener  tossed  than  skiffs,  when  tempests  rave  : 
The  tower,  whose  lofty  brow  sustains  the  sky, 
With  greater  ruin  tumbles  from  on  high : 
The  lightning's  bolt,  with  forky  vengeance  red, 
Vents  its  first  fury  on  the  mountain's  head. 

The  mind,  where  Wisdom  deigns  her  genial  light, 
Led  by  the  star  of  Hope  in  adverse  night, 
Fortune's  gay  sunshine  never  can  elate—- 
Dauntless, prepared  to  meet  the  frowns  of  Fate. 

'Tis  Jove  who  bids  the  dashing  tempest  swell, 
And  the  bright  sun  the  stormy  clouds  dispel. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  93 

If  o'er  your  paths  clouds  now  should  cast  a  gloom, 
Soon  will  the  scene  in  brighter  prospects  bloom  : 
Apollo  does  not  always  strike  the  lyre, 
Nor  bid  the  arrow  from  his  bow  aspire. 

When  raging  grief  and  poverty  appear, 
Strengthen  thy  sickening  heart,  and  banish  fear. 
When  you  are  wafted  by  a  prosperous  gale, 
Learn  wisely  to  contract  the  swelling  sail. 


TRANSLATION 

OF  THE  FIFTH  ODE,  FIRST  BOOK  OF  HORACE 
Addressed  to  the  courtezan  Pyrrha. 

W  HO,  fair  Pyrrha,  wins  thy  graces  ? 

What  gay  youth  imprints  a  kiss  ? 
Or  in  roseate  groves  embraces 

Urging  thee  to  amorous  bliss  ? 

To  delude  to  your  caresses 
What  young  rake,  or  wanton  blade, 

Do  you  bind  your  golden  tresses, 
In  plain  elegance  arrayed  ? 

Soon  the  unhappy  youth,  deploring, 

Shall  lament  thy  proud  disdain ; 
Thus,  the  winds,  tempestuous  roaring, 

Rend  the  bosom  of  the  main. 


94  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

He,  who's  now  thy  beauty  prizing, 
In  thy  smiles  supremely  blest, 

Dreams  not  of  the  storm  that's  rising, 
To  disturb  his  peaceful  breast. 

Misery's  sharpest  pang  he  suffers, 
Who,  secure  from  all  alarms, 

Like  all  thy  deluded  lovers, 
Clasped  a  serpent  in  his  arms. 

Once,  thy  deep  intrigues  unknowing, 
I  embarked  upon  the  deep  ; 

Boisterous  storms,  dread  horrors  blowing. 
Roused  me  from  lethargick  sleep. 

Billows  were  around  me  roaring, 
When  great  Neptune's  friendly  aid, 

Me  to  Rome  again  restoring, 
There  my  grateful  vows  I  paid. 


STANZAS 

ON    RECEIVING    A    FROWN    FROM    CYNTHIA. 

A  GLOOMY  cloud  in  heaven  appears, 

And  shrouds  the  solar  ray  ; 
All  Nature  droops,  and  bursts  in  tears, 

And  mourns  the  loss  of  day. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  95 


What  wrath  has  sent  the  tempest  down 

To  gloom  the  azure  sky  ? 
Lo !  Cynthia's  mien  assumes  a  frown, 

And  Colin  heaves  a  sigh  ! 

Yes,  Cynthia  frowns ! — in  mourning  clad 
Young  Colin  seeks  the  plain, 

And  there  in  silent  sorrow  sad, 
Sighs,  weeps,  and  sighs  again. 

Ah  !  luckless  hour  !  the  lover  cries  ; 

Vain  Hope  !  no  more  beguile  ! 
Ah  !  seek  no  more,  in  Cynthia's  eyes 

The  sunbeam  of  her  smile  ! 

Once  in  the  days  of  happier  fate, 
In  smiles  she  tripped  the  lea ; 

But  I,  with  fondest  pride  elate, 
Thought  all  those  smiles  for  me. 

Where  once  benignant  beams  were  shed, 
Now  sad  displeasure  lowers  : 

On  Colin's  fond,  devoted  head, 
The  storm,  dark  rolling,  showers. 

The  fount  of  grief  has  now  grown  dry, 
And  tears  no*  more  can  flow ; 

No  more  can  trickle  from  the  eye, 
The  streams  of  mental  woe. 

Cynthia,  behold  a  captive  heart; 

Its  real  anguish  see, 
Transcending  all  descriptive  art ; 

It  bleeds  alone  by  thee  ! 


96  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

So  deep  a  wound  can  never  close, 
The  heart  cannot  endure, 

You  opened  all  its  bleeding  woes, 
And  you  alone  can  cure. 

Then  deign  a  gentle  smile  of  grace ; 

On  Colin's  bosom  shine  ; 
And,  raptured  at  so  fair  a  face, 

Elysium  will  be  mine  ! 


TRANSLATION 

OF    THE    NINTH    ODE,   THIRD    BOOK,   OF    HORACE, 

Dialogue  between  Horace  and  Lydia. 

HORACE. 

W  HEN  no  fond  rival's  favoured  arms 
With  rapture  clasped  thy  snowy  charms  j 
When  but  to  me  thy  smile  was  given 
It  warmed  me  like  the  smile  of  heaven. 
Thus  blest,  I  envied  not  the  state 
Of  Persia's  monarch  rich  and  great. 

LYDIA. 

When  Lydia's  smile  allured  thee  more 
Than  Chloe's  sweet  seducing  power, 
Then  did  the  cords  of  love  unite 
Our  hearts  in  mutual  delight ; 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  97 

Then  so  revered  was  Lydia's  name, 
I  envied  not  great  Ilia's  fame  ! 

HORACE. 

The  Cressian  Chloe  now  detains 
My  soul  in  fascinating  chains  : 
She  tunes  the  harp's  melodious  strings, 
But  with  much  sweeter  musick  sings : 
Could  dying  snatch  my  love  from  death, 
How  gladly  would  I  yield  my  breath  ! 

LYDIA. 

Me,  Calais,  to  love  inspires  ; 
Our  bosoms  glow  with  gentlest  fires. 
In  him  has  every  graced  combined — 
But,  oh  !  what  charms  adorn  his  mind  1 
I  twice  the  pangs  of  death  would  bear, 
If  Fate  my  Calais  would  spare  1 

HORACE. 

Say,  what  if  former  love  aspire, 
And  glow  with  an  intenser  fire  ? 
Say,  what  if  Chloe 's  charms  I  spurn- 
Will  Lydia  to  my  arms  return, 
And  bid  the  Paphian  queen  again 
Unite  us  with  a  stronger  chain  ? 

LYDIA. 

Though  light  as  cork,  your  passions  reign, 
And  rougher  than  the  raging  main  ; 
Though  Calais  by  far  outvies 
The  great  enlightener  of  the  skies  ; 
Yet  from  his  eager  love  I  fly, 
To  live  with  you,  with  you  to  die  ! 
13 


98  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

* 
THE  LAURELLED  NYMPH. 

Addressed  to  Fhilenia. 

W  HERE  famed  Parnassus'  lofty  summits  rise, 
With  garlands  wreathed,  and  seem  to  prop  the  skies, 
There  bloomed  the  groves,  where  once  the  tuneful  choir 
In  boldest  numbers  waked  the  sounding  lyre. 
Fast  by  the  mount  descends  the  sacred  spring, 
Whose  magick  waters  taught  the  world  to  sing. 
Hence  men,  inspired,  first  tuned  the  rural  strain, 
And  sung  of  shepherds  and  the  peaceful  plain, 
The  beauteous  virgin  and  Irfalian  grove, 
And  all  the  pains  and  all  the  sweets  of  love  ; 
But  soon  the  Muse,  with  glowing  rapture  fired, 
Seized  the  bold  clarion,  and  the  world  inspired  ; 
To  arms,  to  arms,  resounds  from  either  pole, 
Steels  every  breast,  and  man's  each  daring  soul. 
Wide  Havock  reigned ;  the  world  with  tumult  shook  ; 
Thick  lightnings  glared,  and  muttering  thunders  broke  ; 
The  boisterous  passions  waged  continual  wars  ; 
The  sun  grew  pale,  and  terror  seized  the  stars. 
But,  hark  !  soft  musick  floats  upon  the  gale  ! 
'Tis  Harmony  herself,  who  chants  the  tale  1 
A  strain  so  sweet,  so  elegantly  terse, 
Joined  with  such  lofty  majesty  of  verse, 
Arrests  Apollo's  song-enraptured  ear, 
A  nobler  carol,  than  his  own,  to  hear. 
The  astonished  muses  cease  their  feebler  song ; 
No  more  the  tabor  charms  the  village  throng ; 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  99 

The  aerial  tribe  in  air  suspend  their  wings  ; 

All  Nature's  hushed  ;  for  lo,  Philenia  sings  1 

Philenia  sings,  and  sings  the  soldier's  toil, 

Blest  with  the  lovely  virgin's  generous  smile. 

The  bards  of  old,  who  sung  of  wars  and  loves, 

Of  iron  ages,  and  Arcadian  groves, 

Around  Philenia's  brow  the  laurel  twine, 

And  vie  hi  honouring  genius  so  divine. 

Hence,  if  in  after  age  a  bard  should  hope 

To  gain  those  tints  which  grace  the  verse  of  Pope ; 

In  Sorrow's  gently  sympathizing  flow, 

To  make  each  bosom  feel  another's  woe  ; 

Or  Virtue's  heavenly  portrait  to  display, 

In  the  full  light  of  beauty's  golden  ray ; 

To  sing  of  patriots  in  the  martial  strife, 

The  gallant  soldier  and  heroick  chief; 

To  paint  in  colours  that  can  never  fade  ; 

Let  him  invoke  Philenia  to  his  aid. 

Her  smile  shall  bid  these  varied  charms  expand, 

As  vernal  flowers  by  gentlest  zephyrs  fanned. 

In  her  bold  lines  may  admiration  see 

Impartial  Justice  rule  the  fair  decree. 

Not,  like  the  sun,  whose  lustre  shines  on  all, 

Do  her  diffusive  pane gy ricks  fall. 

While  Faction's  idols  meet  repulsive  shame, 

The  wandering  outcasts  from  the  dome  of  Fame  ; 

The  patriot  glories  in  his  laurel  crown, 

Decked  with  the  deathless  verdure  of  renown. 

To  adulation's  fawning  scribes  belong, 

With  guile  to  captivate  the  giddy  throng  ; 

To  rend  from  Honour's  brow  his  laureat  plume ; 

To  trample  down  the  generous  stateman's  tomb  ; 


100  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

To  gild  with  servile  Flattery's  dazzling  beam, 

The  imperial  meteor  of  a  baseless  dream. 

But  when  Philenia  charms  the  listening  throng, 

'Tis  Virtue's  praise  inspires  the  noble  song. 

Her  Muse,  who  oft  her  venturous  bark  had  rode, 

On  Learning's  wide,  immeasurable  flood, 

Whose  crowded  canvass  touched  at  every  shore, 

New  mines  of  golden  letters  to  explore  ; 

In  Fancy's  loom  Pierian  webs  hath  wrought, 

Decked  with  the  varied  pearls  of  splendid  thought ; 

Perennial  roses  round  the  work  appear, 

And  all  the  beauties  of  the  vernal  year. 

She,  like  a  Newton,  in  poetick  skies,    * 

Shall  e'er  on  Fame's  triumphant  pinions  rise. 

When  Death's  cold  slumbers  shall  have  sealed  that  eye, 

Whose  radiant  smiles  with  solar  splendours  vie  ; 

When  that  warm  tongue,  from  which  such  musick  flows, 

Shall  in  the  tomb  in  quietude  repose  ; 

Thy  deathless  name  through  Envy's  clouds  shall  burst, 

And  baffle  hoary  Time's  corroding  rust. 

Then  those  fair  portraits,  which  thy  muse  has  drawn, 

Which  the  long  gallery  of  Fame  adorn^ 

Through  Nature's  fated  barriers  shall  break* 

Start  into  life,  and  all  thy  praises  speak. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  101 


ODE  TO  COMPASSION. 

ALL  hail,  divine  Compassion  !  see 
Low  at  thy  shrine,  my  bended  knee  1 
Lend  to  my  verse  thy  melting  glow, 

And  all  the  tender  plaintiveness  of  woe  ! 

The  man  who  feels  when  others  grieve, 
And  loves  the  wretched  to  relieve, 

Enjoys  more  true  delight, 
Than  he,  who  in  the  fields  of  war 
Triumphant  rolls  his  thundering  car, 

And  gains  the  laurels  of  the  fight ! 
Than  he,  whom  shouting  realms  proclaim, 
The  victor  of  mankind,  the  boast  of  Fame. 

Sweet  Compassion  !  noblest  friend  ; 
From  thy  native  skies  descend  ; 
Gently  breathing  through  the  heart, 
All  thy  tender  warmth  impart ! 
Lure  us  from  the  gloomy  cell, 
Where  Indifference  loves  to  dwell ! 
Come  with  Truth,  celestial  maid, 
In  her  brightest  robes  arrayed ; 
And  with  Bliss,  delightful  prize, 
Blessing  our  enraptured  eyes  ! 

Behold  !  the  heavens  of  heavens  unbar 
Their  golden  portals  wide  ; 


102  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

In  glory  clad,  thy  train  appear ; 

Upon  the  spheres  they  ride. 
Pleased  with  a  Howard's  glorious  fame, 

Thou  comest  from  realms  above, 
To  kindle  at  his  tomb  the  flame 

Of  universal  love  ; 
To  crown  with  wreaths  of  endless  bloom, 

And  joy,  that  never  fades, 
The  man,  whose  heavenly  paths  illume 

Misfortune's  dreary  shades. 

Welcome,  on  earth,  thy  golden  reign ! 
Now  hideous  vice,  and  tottering  pain 

Shall  quickly  flee  away. 

As  hills  of  snow  in  face  of  day 
In  winter  their  high  heads  display  ; 
But,  melted  by  the  vernal  beams, 
Their  mass  dissolves  in  liquid  streams : 

So  by  thy  genial  ray 

Inspired,  the  frozen  cheek  of  woe 
Shall  feel  soft  Rapture's  pleasing  glow, 

And  tears  of  joy  around  the  world  shall  flow. 


THE  GOLDEN  AGE. 

TRANSLATED  FROM  OVID's  METAMORPHOSES. 

W  HEN  Faith  and  Honesty  with  willing  hand, 
Swayed  the  blest  sceptre  of  the  smiling  land, 
Then  bloomed  the  Golden  Age;  then  all  mankind 
Beneath  the  bowers  of  sweet  content  reclined, 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  103 

No  brazen  records  kept  the  crowd  in  awe, 

For  innocence  supplied  the  want  of  law  ; 

No  conscious  guilt  disturbed  each  peaceful  bower, 

No  fierce  tribunal  grasped  despotick  power, 

Nor  pale  Revenge  pursued  with  endless  wrath ; 

But  peace  with  flowers  bestrewed  life's  rugged  path. 

The  lofty  pine,  which  crowned  the  mountain's  brow, 

Where  clouds  of  green  around  the  horizon  flow, 

Had  not  yet  sought  the  distant  world  t'  explore  ; 

Nor  heard  the  ocean's  wild  tumultuous  roar. 

Ambition  had  not  yet  inflamed  mankind, 

Within  their  cots  by  sweet  content  confined. 

War's  ruthless  hand  had  not  the  rampart  raised, 

No  hostile  standards  o'er  the  meadows  blazed, 

No  threatening  clarions  taught  the  field  to  bleed, 

Nor  brazen  horns  aroused  the  martial  steed, 

No  savage  sword  cut  short  the  vital  breath, 

Nor  glittering  helmets  braved  the  approach  of  death. 

In  soft  delight,  far  from  the  din  of  anus, 

The  world  reposed,  secure  from  all  alarms ; 

No  shining  share  the  fertile  vallies  tore, 

Spontaneous  earth  her  rich  luxuriance  bore ; 

Divine  Content,  whose  charms  ne'er  fail  to  please, 

Fed  on  the  fruits,  which  bent  the  labouring  trees. 

The  smiling  berries,  which  on  mountains  glowed, 

Or  blush  beneath  the  brambles  on  the  road, 

The  sacred  acorn,  shaken  by  the  wind, 

Supplied  the  daily  wants  of  all  mankind. 

Unceasing  spring  breathed  fragrance  round  their  bowers, 

And  soft  Zephyrus  fanned  spontaneous  flowers. 

The  earth  untilled,  with  smiling  fruitage  glowed, 

And  round  the  fields  the  vellow  harvest  flowed. 


104  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

The  heavenly  nectar  from  the  skies  was  showered  j 
And  streams  of  milk  along  the  meadows  poured ; 
The  verdant  oak  with  honey  bathed  the  plain, 
And  blest  Content  prolonged  the  golden  reign. 


Addressed  to  Harriot,  who  presented  the  author  with  a  bunch  of  roses,  saying* 
she  had  preserved  them  a  long  while,  and  that  they  were  the  fairest  of  th» 


OUCH  bounteous  flowerets  from  so  fair  a  hand, 

The  warmest  thanks  from  Friendship's  pen  demand ; 

Ere  yet  the  expanding  buds  perfumed  the  air, 

Blest  with  the  nurture  of  thy  tender  care, 

The  bloom  they  copied  of  celestial  grace, 

The  lovely  pictures  of  thy  lovelier  face. 

Thine  are  those  tints,  which  charm  the  admiring  eye ; 

Thine  the  fair  lustre  of  each  fragrant  dye. 

On  the  free  bounty  of  thy  smile  they  live, 

And  to  the  world  their  borrowed  splendour  give. 

Thus  planets  glitter  on  the  robe  of  night, 

And  from  the  sun  receive  their  silver  light. 

The  flower,  which  blooms  beneath  the  vernal  ray, 

Owes  all  its  beauty  to  the  orb  of  day  ; 

For  though  the  lily  boasts  its  spotless  form, 

Yet  Sol's  pure  lustre  gave  it  every  charm. 

Thus  mildly  brilliant  those  effulgent  eyes, 

Which  bade  the  fainting  rose  in  bloom  to  rise, 

Which  each  in  Beauty's  sky  a  golden  sun, 

Claim  all  those  plaudits,  which  the  rose  has  won. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES,  105 

Then,  Rapture,  cease  on  Harriot's  gift  to  gaze, 
And,  Admiration,  hold  thy  eager  praise  ! 
For  though  e'en  Justice  this  encomium  deigns, 
That  in  its  charms  her  faint  resemblance  reigns, 
Yet  while  her  tongue  such  lavish  praise  bestows, 
In  her,  in  her  we  view  a  fairer  rose. 


VERSES 

TO  A  YOUNG  LADY,  LATELY  RECOVERED  FROM  SICKNESS. 

W  ITH  gloomy  clouds  of  dismal  dread, 

The  horizon  sullenly  is  bound ; 
The  sun,  obscured,  weeps  through  the  shade  j 
The  zephyrs  mourn  along  the  ground, 
Where  Darkness  reigns, 
Where  Woe's  sad  strains 
Wind  o'er  the  plains. 

Vaulted  with  Terror's  sable  veil, 

Fringed  with  the  sunbeam's  glossy  hue, 
Deep  lies  the  solitary  vale, 

Where  round  the  grove  a  rural  crew, 
In  smiling  throng, 
With  sweetest  song, 
Charm  Time  along. 
14 


106  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

Thus  seated  in  the  breezy  shade, 

Before  them  in  the  winding  vale, 
Appeared  a  sweetly  pensive  maid, 
Whose  silence  spoke  the  melting  tale 
Of  one,  who  trod 
From  Health's  abode, 
Misfortune's  road. 

From  her  sad  eye  the  tear  of  grief, 
Unknown,  gushed  silently  along ; 
The  swains  were  moved  to  her  relief* 
And  Pity  wept  amid  the  throng. 
They  thought  their  eyes, 
Saw,  in  disguise, 
One  from  the  skies. 

Lovely,  as  Morn,  who  weeps  in  dews ; 
Mild  as  the  fragrant  breath  of  Even ; 
Though  streams  of  woe  her  eyes  suffuse, 
She  shone  the  silver  queen  of  heaven. 
Dian  her  guide, 
Fair  Beauty's  pride 
In  sense  outvied. 

While  thus  the  swains,  in  rapture's  trance, 

Her  lonely  wandering  steps  surveyed, 
Two  seraphs  on  the  wing  advance, 
Contending  for  the  heaven-born  maid. 
So  great  the  prize, 
That  e'en  the  skies 
Viewed  with  surprise  ! 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  107 

One  of  the  seraphs  thus  began  : 

"  My  name  is  Fame ;  on  earth  I  sway  ; 
"  The  glory,  pride,  and  boast  of  man, 

"  The  world's  proud  kings  my  voice  obey. 
"  From  pole  to  pole, 
«  My  glories  roll ; 
"  I  rule  the  whole. 

"  Long  have  I  made  yon  fair  my  pride, 

"  The  brightest  gem  my  crown  adorned ; 
"  Her  name  Oblivion's  power  defied, 
"  And  all  his  low  attempts  has  scorned. 
"  Forbear  your  claim, 
"  Ne'er  will  her  name 
"  Descend  from  Fame. 

u  But  say,  if  you  can  boast  to  share 

"  The  affections  of  yon  turtle  dove, 
"  Why,  with  the  storms  of  bleak  despair, 
"  Do  you  afflict  her  from  above  ? 
"  To  force  is  vain ; 
"  Where'er  I  reign, 
"  No  slaves  complain." 

The  angel  sent  from  heaven  replied ; 

"  We  doom  the  fair  to  Mercy's  road, 
"  To  wean  her  love  from  mortal  pride, 
"  To  bliss  supreme  in  heaven's  abode. 
"  To  heaven  restore, 
"  A  mind  too  pure 
"  For  earth's  wild  shore. 


108  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

"  Angels  with  envious  eyes  have  seen, 

"  Earth  in  her  smiles  supremely  blest." 
He  spoke  ;  the  swains  beheld  the  scene, 
And  admiration  swelled  each  breast. 
Sweet  queen  of  worth, 
Heaven  gave  to  earth 
Thy  angel  birth ! 

Loud  echo  rent  the  joyful  skies : 

"  Sweet  visitant,  with  us  remain  ; 
"  Where'er  you  smile,  Misfortune  flies, 
"  And  Heaven  enraptures  all  the  plain. 
"Hail,  to  thee,  Fame  ; 
"  Long  may'st  thou  claim 
"  The  virtuous  dame  I" 


They  sung ;  the  cloudy  mists  retire  ; 
The  azure  skies  in  smiles  expand ; 
Burst  through  the  clouds,  the  solar  fire 
Flamed  in  wide  lustre  round  the  land., 
From  sickly  fears 
The  fair  appears. 
Hail,  golden  years ! 


TRANSLATED    FROM    SAPPHO. 

WELL  may  the  happy  youth  rejoice, 
Who,  to  thy  arms  a  welcome  guest, 

Hears  the  soft  musick  of  thy  voice, 
And  on  thy  smiles  may  freely  feast, 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  109 

As  gods  above,  securely  blest, 

He  envies  not  the  throne  of  Jove  ; 
Endearing  graces  win  his  breast, 

And  sweetly  charm  him  into  love. 

Ah,  adverse  fate  !  unhappy  hour  '. 

With  horror,  at  thy  form  I  start! 
My  faltering  tongue  forgets  its  power, 

And  struggling  passions  rend  the  heart ! 

Quick  flames  enkindle  in  my  veins  ; 

Impervious  clouds  my  eyes  surround ; 
Deep  sighs  I  heave  ;  wild  Frenzy  reigns ; 

My  ears  with  dismal  murmurs  sound  I 

My  colour,  like  the  lily,  fades ; 

Rude  tremours  seize  my  throbbing  frame ; 
A  gelid  sweat  my  limbs  pervades, 

And  strives  to  quench  the  vital  flame  ; 
My  quivering  pulse  forgets  to  play  ; 
Enraged,  confused,  I  faint  away  ! 


ODE  TO  WINTER, 

JN  o  fragrance  fills  the  playful  breeze  ; 

No  flowers  the  fields  adorn : 
But  bare  and  leafless  are  the  trees, 

And  dreary  is  the  lawn. 
For  bliss-destroying  Winter  reigns, 

The  Lapland  tyrant  of  the  plains. 


110  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

The  crystal  lakes  unruffled  stream, 
With  face  serene,  as  even, 

Whose  surface  in  the  solar  beam, 
Shone  with  the  smile  of  heaven  ; 

Chilled  by  cold  Winter's  frigid  sway, 

Reflect  no  more  the  face  of  day  ! 

The  nymphs  no  longer  trip  the  field, 
Nor,  from  the  crowded  green, 

Fly,  in  some  grove  to  lie  concealed, 
Yet  hope  their  flight  was  seen. 

No  more,  amid  the  sylvan  dance, 

Smiles  round  the  soul-subduing  glance  ! 


I 


And  sylvan  Pleasure's  voice  is  hushed ; 

And  the  sweet  roseate  dye, 
Which  on  the  cheek  of  Nature  blushed, 

No  more  delights  the  eye. 
Oh  !  thus  the  cheek  of  Beauty  fades, 
When  wintry  age  its  bloom  pervades  ! 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  Ill 


A  SONG. 

THE    LASS    OF    EDEN    GROVE. 

IN  Eden  grove  there  dwells  a  maid, 

Adorned  by  every  grace ; 
The  pearls,  that  deck  the  dewy  shade, 
Fairer  confess  her  face. 

The  sun  has  spots,  the  rose  has  thorns, 

And  poisons  mix  with  love  ; 
But  every  spotless  charm  adorns 
The  Lass  of  Eden  grove. 


The  sparkling,  soft,  cerulean  eye  ; 

Bright  Virtue's  starry  zone  ; 
The  smile  of  Spring's  Favonian  sky ; 

These  charms  are  all  her  own. 

The  sun  has  spots,  Sec. 

The  frozen  veins  of  age  have  felt. 

New  youth  in  Eden  grove  ; 
Her  smiles,  like  spring,  the  frost  can  melt. 

And  warm  the  heart  with  love. 

The  sun  has  spots,  &c. 

The  monarch  quits  his  dazzling  throne, 

And  seeks  her  rural  lot, 
To  find  in  her  a  richer  crown ; 

A  palace  in  a  cot ! 

The  sun  has  spots,  &c. 


112  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

While  toy-enamoured  eyes  admire 

The  gaudy  bubble,  Fame  ; 
Her  virtues  brighter  joys  inspire, 

And  softer  honours  claim. 

The  sun  has  spots,  &c. 

Her  charms  the  noblest  laurel  prove, 

The  hero's  meed  outshine ; 
And  round  the  brow  of  faithful  love,  ^ 

Perennial  garlands  twine. 

The  sun  has  spots,  Sec. 

When  Cupid  all  his  daits  has  hurled, 

From  her  he  draws  supplies, 
And  Hymen's  flambeau  lights  the  world 

From  her  resplendent  eyes. 

The  sun  has  spots,  &c. 

To  her,  sweet  nymph,  the  captive  soul, 

Pours  forth  its  votive  lay ; 
'Tis  bliss  to  own  her  soft  control ; 
'Tis  rapture,  to  obey. 

The  sun  has  spots,  the  rose  has  thorns, 

And  poisons  mix  with  love ; 
But  eveiy  spotless  charm  adorns 
The  Lass  of  Eden  grove. 


PART  II. 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


NOTE. 

In  this  Division  of  the  work  will  be  found  most  of  the 
Pieces,  produced  by  Mr.  Paine,  on  -various  occasions,  from 
July  1792,  when  he  took  his  first  degree,  till  a  short  time  before 
his  death)  witfi  the  exception  of  the  regular  Poems,  Odes,  and 
Songs,  whkh  will  form  a  series  by  themselves. 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


EDWIN  AND   EMMA. 


AN  EPITHALAMIUM. 


H.  AIL,  to  the  natal  hour  of  nuptial  joy, 
When  life,  from  Nature's  second  birth,  begins  ; 

When  the  fond  lover,  and  the  damsel  coy, 

Are  born  in  wedlock,  Love's  connubial  twins  ! 


Ingenuous  Edwin  !  whom  pale  Envy  ' 

For  thee  half-brightened  to  a  smile,  applauds  ; 

Who,  mid  the  leaves  of  Harvard's  bay-wrought  crown, 
Entwin'st  the  wreath,  which  female  taste  awards. 

Enchanting  Emma,  whose  translucent  face, 

Like  heaven's  expanse,  a  ground  work  was  designed, 

Where  Nature's  hand  her  brightest  gems  might  place, 
To  shine  a  picture  of  the  perfect  mind. 

Blest,  favoured  pair,  of  rival  charms  the  pride, 
By  Fortune  nursed,  by  gay  Refinement  bred  ; 

Unconscious  Beauty,  modest  Worth  allied, 
By  Cupid's  hand  to  Hymen's  temple  led, 


116  EDWIN  AND  EMMA. 

Whate'er  in  Love's  bright  landscape  charmed  your  view? 

May  you,  in  sweet  reality,  enjoy ; 
Feel  all,  that  Hope  of  rapture  ever  drew  ; 

Live  all,  that  Fancy  ever  dreamt  of  joy  ! 

When  man  primaeval  walked  with  parent  Heaven, 
Eden  his  table  crowned,  and  Eve  his  bed ; 

But,  when  by  Fate's  sad  alternation  driven, 
He  chose  the  bride,  and  from  the  garden  fled, 

More  happy  Edwin  !  'tis  thy  lot  assigned, 
Not,  Adam-like,  to  waver  which  to  leave  ; 

But,  favoured  youth,  to  find  them  both  combined, 
Thy  Eve,  an  Eden ;  and  thy  Eden,  Eve  ! 

Auspicious  union  !  with  thy  silken  sweets, 

Should  sensual  life  her  sackcloth  joys  compare  ; 

The  best  morceau,  that  Epicurus  eats, 
Is  but  a  tear-wet  crust— *a  beggar's  fare  I 

Lo  !  o'er  yon  night-wrapped  precipice  afar, 
Gay,  smiling,  lingers  Love's  benignant  queen  ! 

There,  rapt  in  ecstacy,  she  checks  her  car, 
To  feast  her  eyes  upon  the  bridal  scene  I 

A  scene,  so  bright,  that  well  might  choirs  above 

Envy  the  lavish  bliss,  to  mortals  given ; 
Pant  for  the  raptures  of  connubial  love, 

And  wish,  that  wedlock  was  no  sin  in  heaven  ! 

Oh,  happy  pair,  to  every  blessing  born  I 

For  you,  may  life's  calm  stream,  unruffled,  run  ; 

For  you,  its  roses  bloom,  "  without  a  thorn," 
And  bright  as  morning,  shine  its  evening  sun  ! 


EDWIN  AND  EMMA.  117 

Yours  be  each  joy,  that  easy  affluence  brings  ; 

Each  tranquil  pleasure,  that  esteem  can  prove  ; 
Each  tender  bliss,  that  from  Affection  springs, 

And  all  the  thrilling  luxuries  of  love. 

May  not  a  tear  in  Emma's  eyelid  melt, 

But  that,  which  flows  to  meet  her  Edwin's  kiss  j 
May  not  a  throb  in  Edwin's  breast  be  felt, 

But  that,  which  palpitates  for  Emma's  bliss  ! 

And  when  life's  drama,  like  some  worn  out  toy, 
No  more  shall  dazzle  with  its  wonted  charms ; 

Like  old  Anchises  from  the  flames  of  Troy, 
May  Age  retire  in  young  Affection's  arms  ! 

Soft  as  the  ringdove  breathes  her  dying  coo, 

Serene,  as  Hesper  gleams  the  dusky  heath, 
Be  Emma's  sigh,  that  wafts  the  world  adieu ; 

Be  Edwin's  smile  that  gilds  the  lip  of  death. 

But,  Penseroso,  hush  thy  dirge-toned  string-! 

Each  sprightly  note  should  trill  a  fuge  of  mirth  : 
And,  ere  their  souls  to  yon  bright  skies  you  wing. 

Let  them  enjoy  a  prior  heaven  on  earth  ! 


118  A  MONODY  TO  THE 


A  MONODY, 


TO    THE    MEMORY    OF    W.  H.  BROWN. 

Jt  ALE  sleeps  the  moonbeam  on  the  shadowy  surf ; 

Lorn  to  the  gale,  elegiack  willows  wave ; 
Cold-glistening,  fall  the  night-dews  on  the  turf ; 

And  Nature  leans  upon  her  Pollio's  grave. 

Clouds  veil  the  moon-— 'tis  Nature  garbed  in  woe  ; 

The  willow  droops — 'tis  plaintive  Nature  sighs  ; 
The  night-dews  fall — they  are  the  tears,  that  flow 

On  Pollio's  flower-wreathed  urn,  from  Nature's  eyes. 

Yes  ! — he  was  doating  Nature's  favourite  son ; 

The  fostering  muses  fondly  nursed  the  child ; 
His  infant  prattle  into  numbers  run, 

And  Genius,  from  his  opening  eyelids,  smiled. 

In  life  maturing,  Fancy's  attick  germ 

The  stalk  of  judgment  with  its  blossoms  graced  ; 
Nor  feared  corroding  Envy's  latent  worm, 

The  frost  of  criticks,  nor  the  drought  of  taste. 

At  length  full  beamed  the  summer  of  his  prime  ; 

No  fixed  star — a  rolling  sun,  he  shone  ; 
Now  glanced  his  rays  on  Beauty's  temperate  clime ; 

Now  flamed  his  orb  o'er  Grandeur's  torrid  zone. 


MEMORY  OF  W.  H.  BROWN.  119 

As  burnt  the  bush  to  Moses'  raptured  gaze, 

Nor  lost  its  verdure  'mid  the  flame  divine  ; 
Thus  bloomed  his  song  in  rhetorick's  splendid  blaze, 

Nor  drooped  the  vigour  of  his  nervous  line. 

With  charms  to  move,  with  dignity  to  awe, 

His  tragick  muse  the  lyre  of  pathos  strung ; 
Loud  wailed  the  horrors  of  fraternal  war, 

And  dying  Andre*  struggled  on  her  tongue » 

In  either  eye,  a  liquid  mirror  moved  ; 

A  tender  ray  illumed  each  crystal  sphere  ; 
While  thus  she  sung  the  hapless  chief  beloved, 

His  life,  the  smile  received — his  fate,  the  tear. 

With  features,  formed  the  moral  laugh  to  hit, 

Thalia  knew  his  useful  scene  to  frame ; 
And,  scorning  ribaldry,  that  trull  of  wit, 

Preserved  the  chastity  of  lettered  fame. 

Ithaca'sf  queen,  his  comick  pencil  drew, 

Whom  suitor-hosts,  so  long,  in  vain,  adored  ; 

Who,  to  the  widowed  bed  of  wedlock  true, 
Lived  Sorrow's  nun  at  riot's  festive  board. 

His  prose,  like  song,  without  its  numbers,  glowed ; 

Correctly  negligent,  with  judgment  bold : 
Here  reasoned  sentiment,  there  humour  flowed ; 

Now  flashed  the  thought,  and  now  the  period  rolled. 


*  Mr.  Brown  chose  this  unfortunate  Officer  for  the  hero  of  a  tragedy,  which 
received  the  highest  approbation  of  many  gentlemen  of  taste. 

f  He  wrote  a  comedy,  entitled  Penelope,  in  the  style  of  the  West-Indian. 


120  A  MONODY,  Sec. 

Swift,  as  the  light  to  Nature's  suburbs  wings ; 

Quick,  as  the  wink  of  Heaven's  electrick  eye  j 
Lo  !  Pollio's  mind,  with  subtle  vigour,  springs ; 

And  volumes,  sketched  in  thoughts,  perspective  lie, 

Not  Cato-like,  a  miser  of  applause, 
He  loved  the  genius,  that  eclipsed  his  own ; 

Nor  dreamt,  like  Johnson,  that  by  Nature's  laws, 
He  reigned  the  Sultan  of  the  classick  throne. 

To  censure,  modest — generous,  to  commend ; 

To  veteran  bards  he  left  of  taste  the  van ; 
A  keen  eyed  critick— still,  a  tender  friend ; 

An  idol'd  poet — but,  a  modest  man. 

Such  Pollio  was  '.—but  heaven,  with  hand  divine, 
Deducts  in  period,  what  it  adds  in  boon ; 

Jjfe's  April  day,  with  brighter  beams,  may  shine, 
But  meets  a  sunset,  in  a  cloud,  at  noon. 

Felt  ye  the  gale  ? — It  was  the  Sirock  blast, 

That  spreads  o'er  burning  climes  Death's  gelid  sleep  ! 

Hear  ye  that  groan  ?  'tis  dying  Pollio's  last ; 

And  Friendship,  Genius,  Virtue,  speechless,  weep  ! 

<'  Oh,  Pollio,  Pollio  !"— all  Parnassus  cries  I—- 
Their breasts  the  grief-delirious  muses  beat ; 

Torn  from  their  brows,  the  withering  garland  dies ; 
And  drooping  groves  this  funeral  dirge  repeat : 

"  Lamented  Pollio,  o'er  thy  sacred  tomb, 
«  The  laurel-sprig  we  plant,  the  turf  to  shade  ; 

"  Bathed  by  our  tears,  its  spreading  boughs  shall  bloom, 
"  'Till  Fame's  most  verdant  amaranths  shall  fade  I 


SELF-COMPLACENCY.  121 

"  No  towering  marble  marks  thy  humble  dust, 
"  Yet  there  shall  oft  our  pensive  choir  repair ; 

"  Thy  modest  grave  can  boast  no  sculptured  bust, 
"  Yet  Nature  stands  a  weeping  statue  there  I" 


With  these  verses  Mr.  Paine   concludes  a  prose  Essay  on  the  Pleasures  <rt' 

SELF-COMPLACENCY. 

JUET  no  rude  Care,  with  anxious  thoughts,,  invade, 
Nor  print  her  footstep  in  my  chosen  shade  ! 
O'er  the  wide  world  I've  traced  the  tour  of  day, 
Where  restless  Love  has  taught  my  feet  to  stray ; 
If  Anna's  taste  this  favourite  spot  approve, 
I'll  drop  the  Scythian,  and  forget  to  rove. 
All  hail,  ye  deserts,  bend  a  pitying  ear, 
A  sound  unknown,  a  human  voice  to  hear  \ 
Wave  your  tall  brows,  to  hail  a  stranger-guest, 
Whose  throbbing  bosom  seeks  in  you  a  rest. 
Proud  earth,  adieu  !  Your  smile  I  ask  no  more, 
Nor  all  your  sordid,  soul-contracting  ore  ! 
The  Syren's  bowl,  and  pleasure's  deep  abyss 
Yield  to  the  crystal  fount  a  tranquil  bliss. 
The  purest  joy  will  ever  love  to  dwell 
In  the  lone  confines  of  the  hermit's  cell ; 
On  him  the  day  lamp  sheds  its  mildest  beam, 
His  board  the  forest,  and  his  cup  the  stream. 
Like  him,  the  menial  arts  of  life  forsook, 
To  hold  pure  converse  with  the  babbling  brook ; 
16 


122  SJELF-COMPLACENCY. 

Here  let  me  rove  amid  these  wild  retreats, 
The  bee  of  Nature's  yet  imtasted  sweets  ; 
Here  let  my  feet,  overwearied,  find  repose, 
My  head  a  pillow,  and  my  griefs  a  close  ! 
The  simple  pleasures  of  uncultured  earth 
Can  please  no  palate  of  exotick  birth  ; 
Lost  is  the  social  fire,  with  all  its  joys, 
Lost  is  the  splendid  dome,  with  all  its  toys. 
A  long  adieu  1  to  all  the  world  calls  great, 
Fame's  glittering  baubles,  and  the  pomp  of  state  ! 
Far  from  the  tumults  of  the  roaring  sea, 
The  waves  of  Fortune  roll  no  more  for  me. 
Far  from  the  vultures  of  corroding  strife, 
And  all  the  senseless  butterflies  of  life, 
Here  have  I  flown  to  trace  new  soils  of  bliss, 
And  clasp  rude  Nature  in  her  loose  undress  ; 
Her  naked  graces  Rapture's  throb  impart, 
And  spurn  the  pencil  and  the  veil  of  art. 
Beauty  ne'er  blushed,  of  harmless  man  afraid, 
Nor  asked  a  fig-leaf  in  the  secret  shade. 
Oft  in  the  modish  circle,  have  I  seen 
The  thoughtless  canvass  of  a  pictured  mien ; 
And  grown  genteel,  by  Fashion's  dire  constraints, 
The  well-laced  spider  in  a  hectick  faints. 
Art  can  but  mimick  ;  Heaven  alone  must  give 
That  innate  force,  by  which  the  graces  live. 
The  form  and  colour  artists  oft  disclose, 
But  who  has  sketched  the  fragrance  of  the  rose  ? 
Ye  dames,  ambitious  of  applauding  eyes, 
Shall  vile  cosmeticks  tempt  the  dubious  prize  ? 
Refine  the  heart,  nor  stoop  to  arts  so  base ; 
Sense  never  sparkled  in  a  painted  face  ! 


SELF-COMPLACEXCY,  123 

Mine  be  the  nymph,  whom  native  charms  adorn ; 

Who  looks  on  Fashion's  painted  mask  with  scorn ; 

Who  never  spread  the  Syren's  artful  guise 

To  chain  attention,  or  entrance  surprise ; 

Who  ne'er  would  wish  the  rising  scale  of  fame, 

If  she,  ascending,  sunk  a  sister's  name  ; 

Who  never  heard,  without  a  kindling  glow, 

The  boast  of  Virtue's  too  successful  foe.  , 

Such  be  the  fair,  to  whom  my  hopes  would  rise, 

Whose  soul  gives  .language  to  her  sparkling  eyes  ; 

Whose  smile  the  gloomiest  scene  of  life  can  cheer, 

With  rapture  glisten,  or  dissolve  a  tear ; 

Whose  charms  with  softness  clothe  her  modest  mien. 

As  light  pellucid,  and  as  heaven  serene  ; 

Whose  lovely  converse  sweetens  every  boon ; 

Whose  cheek  the  morning,  and  whose  mind  the  noon. 

Ah  !  lovely  Anna  !  these  are  traits  divine, 

And  Fancy's  pencil  glows  with  charms,  like  thine  ! 

Come  then,  thou  dearest,  heaven-congenial  maid, 

And  rove  with  me  the  grove,  the  hill  and  glade ! 

Behold  those  rocks  of  huge  colossal  size, 

Whose  cloud-girt  tops  appear  to  prop  the  skies  : 

Like  them,  above  the  world,  we'll  soar  sublime ; 

Like  them,  our  love  shall  brave  the  rage  of  Time  \ 

Here  rich  Luxuriance  waves  her  ample  wing, 

And  spreads  a  harvest  mid  perpetual  spring ; 

But  ne'er  can  Nature's  flowery  charms  endear. 

If  Anna,  Nature's  blossom,  be  not  here. 

Come  then,  my  fair,  and  bless  my  lonesome  hours* 

And  grace  the  palace  arbour  of  the  bowers. 

All  Nature  waits  my  Anna  to  receive ; 

A  second  Eden  wants  a  second 


124  TO  THE  LATE  THOMAS  BRATTLE,  ESQ. 


The  following  Stanzas  were  addressed  to  the  late  Thomas  Brattle,  Esq.  soon 
after  he  had  embellished  his  seat  at  Cambridge,  in  a  manner  highly  cred- 
itable to  the  taste  of  that  worthy  gentleman. 

W  HERE'ER  the  vernal  bower,  the  autumnal  field, 

The  summer  arbour,  and  the  winter  fire  ; 
Where'er  the  charms,  which  all  the  seasons  yield, 

Or  Nature's  gay  museum  can  inspire, 

Delight  the  bosom,  or  the  Fancy  please, 

Or  life  exalt  above  a  splendid  dream ; 
There,  Brattle's  fame  shall  freight  the  grateful  breeze, 

Each  grove  resound  it,  and  reflect  each  stream. 

Each  bough,  that  waves  o'er  brown  Pomona's  plains, 
Each  bud,  that  blossoms  in  the  ambrosial  bower, 

Nursed  by  this  great  Improver's  art,  obtains 
A  nobler  germin,  and  a  fairer  flower. 

The  rural  vale  a  kind  asylum  gave, 

When  Peace  the  seats  of  ermined  woe  forsook  ; 

Retirement  found  an  Athens  in  a  cave, 

And  man  grew  social  with  the  babbling  brook. 

Here,  happy  Brattle,  'twas  thy  envied  place, 

In  gay  undress  fair  Nature  to  surprise  ; 
By  Art's  slight  veil  to  heighten  eveiy  grace, 

And  bid  a  Vauxhall  from  a  marish  rise. 

The  airy  hill-top,  and  the  Dryad's  bower, 

No  m6re  shall  tempt  our  sportive  nymphs  to  rove ; 


ADDRESSED  TO  MISS  B.  125 

This  willow-shade  shall  woo  the  social  hour, 
And  Brattle's  mall  surpass  Arcadia's  grove. 

Fair  Friendship,  lovely  virgin,  here  resort ; 

Here  with  thy  charms  the  joy-winged  morn  beguile : 
Thy  eyes  shall  glisten  eloquence  to  thought, 

And  teach  the  cheek  of  hopeless  gloom  to  smile. 

Here  too,  thy  modest  damsels  oft  shall  pass, 

Yield  a  soft  splendour  to  the  evening  beam, 
Gaze  at  the  image  in  the  watery  glass, 

And  blush  new  beauty  to  the  flattering  stream: 

While  the  pleased  Naiad,  watching  their  return, 

As  oft  at  morn  her  sportive  limbs  she  laves, 
Hears  their  loved  voice,  and  leaning  on  her  urn, 

Stops  the  smooth  current  of  her  silver  waves. 


ADDRESSED    TO    MISS    B. 

POOR  is  the  friendless  master  of  the  globe, 
And  keen  the  ingrate's  heart-inserted  probe ; 
But  keener  woes  that  wretch  is  doomed  to  prove, 
The  poorer  hermit  of  unfriended  love  ! 

Oh,  woman  !  subtle,  lovely,  faithless  sex  ! 
Born  to  enchant,  thou  studiest  to  perplex ; 
Adored  as  queen,  thou  play'st  the  tyrant's  part. 
And,  taught  to  govern,  would'st  enslave  the  heart. 


126  TO  CLORA. 

Now,  cold  as  ice-plant,  fickle  as  the  wind, 
Nor  pity  melts,  nor  pride  can  fix  thy  mind  ; 
Now,  warm  and  faithful  as  the  cooing  dove, 
Thou  breath'st  no  wish,  and  sing'st  no  note,  but  love  1 

In  thee  has  Nature  such  elastick  power, 
She  changes  seasons,  as  she  turns  the  hour ; 
In  one  short  day,  you  roll  through  every  sign, 
From  Passion's  tropics,  to  Decorum's  line. 

Now  from  above,  in  vertic-heat  you  blaze, 
And  melting  stoicks  half  enamoured  gaze  ; 
Now,  dim  from  far  your  rays  obliquely  gleam, 
And  freeze  the  current  of  the  poet's  stream. 

Thus,  through  our  system,  Nature's  frolick  child, 
Fair  woman,  roves,  a  comet,  bright  and  wild  ; 
Supreme  in  art,  our  purblind  sex  she  rules : 
Wits  may  be  lovers— lovers  must  be  fools. 


TO  CLORA. 

1  HOU  nymph  satirick,  for  a  nymph  thou  art, 
Whose  varying  lyre,  like  thy  once  doubtful  sex? 
Can  with  its  tones  the  nicest  ear  perplex, 

And  numb  with  wonder  the  still  pondering  heart ! 

Thou,  whom  Menander  joys  to  call  a  nymph, 
Whose  lips  have  freely  quaffed  the  sacred  lymph  j 
Who  erst,  in  sweet  Eliza's  lovely  guise, 
Didst  biess  the  vision  of  these  mental  eyes. 


TO  CLORA. 

Thou  injured  maid,  to  gain  whose  secret  name, 

Intent  I've  listened  with  arrected  ear ; 
Patrolled  the  whispering  gallery  of  Fame, 

And  walked  the  watch-tower  of  the  winds  to  hear  1 

Thou  injured  maid,  to  thee  this  verse  belongs  : 
The  lyre,  that  caused,  shall  expiate  thy  wrongs  ! 

When  first  the  soft  Eliza  tuned  her  lyre, 
In  notes,  the  pathos  of  whose  dulcet  swell 
Might  charm  a  Zeno  with  its  potent  spell, 

And  the  fond  passion,  which  she  felt,  inspire  ; 

Enamoured  Pride,  from  Fancy's  hill-top,  heard 
The  softened  musick  of  the  fluttering  strain ; 

While  Echo,  prattling  like  the  human  bird, 
Rechanting,  chanted  every  note  again. 

But  Judgment,  wrinkled  with  a  frown  severe, 

Checked  the  young  rapture,  which  thy  lays  inspired ; 
Though  Hope's  pleased  eye  the  page  proscribed  admired, 

And  shed  upon  the  sweet  forbidden  fruit  a  tear. 

Weak  Jealousy  outspread  her  saffron  wing, 

And,  through  the  infection  of  the  jaundiced  hue, 

Saw  from  Eliza's  garb  a  monster  spring, 
In  voice  a  Circe,  and  in  poison  too  : 

A  magick  chantress,  from  whose  Hyblcan  tongue, 

While  fell  the  honied  melody  of  praise, 

Alas  1  impervious  to  the  soul's  fixed 
A  vocal  death  from  every  note  she  flung  ! 


128  SONNETS. 


SONNET  TO  ELIZA. 

AH  !  do  the  Muses,  once  so  coy  and  shy, 

Pursue  Menander,  hard  as  legs  can  lay  ? 
By  Heavens,  Menander  swears,  he  will  not  fly, 

But  meet  their  gentle  ladyships  half  way  ! 

What !  shall  this  coward  bard  turn  pale  with  fear, 
When  clinging  round  his  knees  these  virgins  lie  ? 

Is  he  afraid  of  drowning  in  a  tear, 
Or  being  blown  to  atoms  by  a  sigh  ? 

No,  dear  Eliza,  with  expanded  arms 

I  turn  to  clasp  the  fair  one  that  pursues ; 
But,  struck  with  such  divinity  of  charms, 

Shrink  from  alliance  with  so  bright  a  muse. 

Yet  weep  not,  that  from  Hymen's  yoke  I've  slipt  my  neck. 
For  you've  escaped  a  bite,  while  I  have  lost  a  spec. 


SONNET  TO  BELINDA. 

JL  ATHETICK  chantress !  Nature's  feeling  child  ! 

Thou,  like  thy  parent,  rulest  a  variant  sphere 
Where  Judgment  ripens,  Fancy  blossoms  wild  ; 

Thy  page  the  landscape,  and  thy  mind  the  year. 

Oft  in  the  rainbow's  heaven-enchasing  beams, 
Thy  hand,  sweet  limner,  many  a  pencil  dips ; 

And  oft  receive  Pieria's  sacred  streams 
New  inspiration  from  Belinda's  lips. 


MENANDER  TO  PHILENIA.  129 

Pure,  as  the  bosom  of  the  virgin  rose, 

Blooms  the  rich  verdure  of  a  heart  sincere  ; 

And  e'en  Belinda's  smile  more  radiant  glows, 
Through  the  clear  mirror  of  the  pearly  tear. 

But,  ah  !  her  lyre  in  hushed  oblivion  sleeps, 
While  Edwin  mourns,  and  all  Parnassus  weeps. 


During  the  years  1792  and  1793,  Mr.  Paine,  beside  other  contributions  to  that 
Miscellany,  published  in  the  Massachusetts  Magazine  such  pieces,  as  appear- 
ed there  under  the  signature  of  Menander.  As  those  pieces  are  addressed 
to  a  lady  whose  title  to  the  first  place  among  our  native  poetesses  is  undis- 
puted and  indisputable ;  and  as,  in  order  to  understand  Menander,  it  is  indis- 
pensably necessary,  that  Philenia  may  be  easily  consulted,  no  apology  is 
required  for  inserting  Mrs.  Morton's  verses  in  this  collection.  The 
first  piece  of  this  correspondence,  which  was  originally  published  in  the 
Massachusetts  Mercury  of  February,  1795,  as  were  also  the  second  and  third 
pieces,  alludes  to  a  Poem  entitled,  "  Beacon-Hill,"  supposed  to  be  then 
preparing  by  Philenia  lor  the  press. 

MENANDER  TO  PHILENIA. 


IJLEST  be  the  task,  along  the  stream  of  Fame, 
To  waft  the  Patriot's  and  the  Hero's  name  ! 
Blest  be  the  Muse,  whose  soft  Orphean  breath 
Recalls  their  memories  from  the  realms  of  death  I 
And  blest  Philenia,  noblest  of  the  choir, 
Whose  hallowed  hands  attune  Columbia's  lyre  ! 
JTis  thine  to  bid  the  deathless  laurel  bloom, 
And  shade  departed  Virtue's  sacred  tomb ; 
While  pruned  by  thee,  its  loftier  branches  grow, 
And  yield  new  honours  to  the  dust  below ! 
17 


ISO  MENANDER  TO  PHILENIA. 

'Tis  thine,  like  Joshua,  sun  of  Glory  stand  ! 

And  gild  the  urn  of  Freedom's  martyred  band  ! 

While  in  thy  song,  with  charms  illustrious,  shine 

Gods,  shaped  like  men,  and  men,  like  gods,  divine  ! 

Hail,  lofty  Beacon,  hill  of  Freedom,  hail ! 

Thy  torch  her  herald  to  the  distant  vale  ! 

What  various  scenes,  from  thy  commanding  height, 

The  horizon  paint — the  turning  eye  delight ! 

Loud  Ocean  here,  with  undulating  roar, 

Calls  daring  souls  to  worlds  unknown  before ; 

While  mazing  there,  like  Fancy's  wanton  child, 

Charles  curls  along,  irregular  and  wild." 

Here,  Commerce,  decked  in  all  the  wings  of  Time, 

Courts  the  fleet  breeze,  and  ranges  every  clime  ; 

There  the  gay  villa  lifts  its  lofty  head, 

The  social  mansion,  and  the  humbler  shed. 

But  nobler  honours  to  thy  fame  belong, 

And  owe  their  splendour  to  Philenia's  song. 

Beacon  shall  live  the  theme  of  future  lays  ; 

Philenia  bids—obsequious  Fame  obeys. 

Beacon  shall  live,  enbalmed  in  verse  sublime, 

The  new  Parnassus  of  a  nobler  clime. 

No  more  the  fount  of  Helicon  shall  boast 

Its  peerless  waters,  or  its  suitor-host ; 

To  thee  shall  every  fabled  muse  aspire, 

And  learn  new  musick  from  Philenia's  lyre. 

No  more  the  flying  steed  the  bard  shall  bear, 

Through  the  wild  regions  of  poetick  air ; 

On  nobler  gales  of  verse  his  wings  shall  rise, 

While  Beacon's  eagle  wafts  him  through  the  skies  - 

'Tis  here  Philenia's  muse  begins  her  flight, 

As  Heaven  elate,  extensive  as  the  light : 


MENANDER  TO  PHTLENIA.  131 

Here,  like  this  bird  of  Jove,  she  mounts  the  wind, 

And  leaves  the  clouds  of  vulgar  bards  behind. 

Her  tuneful  notes,  in  tones  mellifluous  flow, 

With  charms  more  various,  than  the  coloured  bow. 

Here,  softly  sweet,  her  liquid  measures  play, 

And  mildest  zephyrs  gently  sigh  away  ; 

There,  towering  numbers  stalk,  majestick  rise, 

Like  ocean  storm,  and  lighten  like  the  skies. 

While  here,  the  gay  Canary  charms  our  ears, 

There,  the  lorn  Philomel  dissolves  in  tears. 

While  here,  the  deep,  grave  verse  slow  loiters  on, 

There,  the  blythe  lines  in  swift  meanders  run. 

Thus  to  each  theme  responds  her  echoing  lay; 

Bold,  without  rashness ;  without  trifling,  gay : 

Serene,  yet  nervous  ;  easy,  yet  sublime  ; 

With  modulation's  unaffected  chime ; 

Soft,  without  weakness  ;  without  frenzy,  warm  ; 

The  varying  shade  of  Nature's  varying  form. 

Let  souls,  elated  by  the  pomp  of  praise, 

The  arch  triumphal,  or  the  busto  raise ; 

Bid  marble,  issuing  into  life,  proclaim 

Their  bubble  greatness  in  the  ear  of  Fame  i 

Gay  trifles,  pictured  out  °n  Glory's  shore, 

Which  Time's  first  rising  billow  leaves  no  more  ! 

'Tis  thine,  Philenia,  loveliest  muse,  to  raise 

A  firmer  monument  of  nobler  praise  I 

Thou  shalt  survive,  when  Time  shall  whelm  the  bust, 

And  lay  the  pyramids  of  Fame  in  dust. 

Unsoiled  by  years,  shall  thy  pathetick  verse 

Melt  Memory's  eye  upon  the  Patriot's  hearse  ; 

And  while  each  distant  age  and  clime  admire 

The  funeral  honours  of  thy  epick  lyre, 


132  PHILENIA  TO  MENANDER. 

What  Hero's  bosom  would  not  wish  to  bleed, 
That  you  might  sing,  and  raptured  ages  read  ? 
'Till  the  last  page  of  Nature's  volume  blaze, 
Shall  live  the  tablet,  graven  with  thy  lays  ! 


PHILENIA  TO  MENANDER, 

BLEST  Poet !  whose  Eolian  lyre 
Can  wind  the  varied  notes  along, 

While  the  melodious  Nine  inspire 
The  graceful  elegance  of  song. 

Who  now  with  Homer's  strength  can  rise, 
Then  with  the  polished  Ovid  move  ; 

Now  swift  as  rapid  Pindar  flies, 

Then  soft  as  Sappho's  breath  of  love. 

To  nobler  themes  attune  that  strain 
Whose  magick  might  the  soul  subdue 

Calm  the  wild  frenzies  of  the  brain, 
And  every  fading  hope  renew, 

Ne'er  can  my  timid  Muse  aspire, 

To  wake  the  harp's  majestick  string  ; 

Nor  with  Menander's  "  epick"  fire, 
The  deeds  of  godlike  heroes  sing. 

My  lute,  with  many  a  willow  bound, 
Flings  the  lorn  pathos  to  the  gale  ; 

While  o'er  the  modulated  sound, 
The  sighs  of  Sympathy  prevail. 


PHILENIA  TO  MENANDER.  133 

'Tis  for  thy  eagle  mind  to  tower 

Triumphant  on  the  wing  of  Fame  ; 
To  dash  the  idiot  brow  of  Power, 

And  waft  the  Hero's  laurelled  name  ; 

To  sketch  the  full  immortal  scene, 

Each  mental  and  each  pictured  view  ; 
Meandering  Charles  embowered  in  green, 

The  warrior's  turf  impearled  with  dew ; 

The  hapless  maid  whose  plighted  truth, 

And  peerless  beauties  could  not  save 
The  brave,  heroick,  victim -youth, 

Dishonoured  by  a  felon-grave. 

Where  the  red  hunter  chased  his  prey, 

The  hand  of  culturing  Science  reigns ; 
Where  forests  arched  the  brow  of  day, 

The  temple  lights  its  glittering  vanes. 

Such  are  the  themes,  thou  minstrel  blest ! 

That  to  thy  classick  lyre  belong, 
While  Genius  fires  thy  passioned  breast 

With  all  the  eloquence  of  song. 

Thine  be  the  chief,  whose  deeds  sublime 

Shall  through  the  world's  wide  mansion  beam, 

Unsullied  by  the  breath  of  Time, 
Exhaustless  as  his  native  stream. 

Divine  Menander,  strike  the  string ; 

With  all  thy  sun-like  splendour  shine  ; 
The  deeds  of  godlike  heroes  sing, 

And  be  the  palm  of  Genius  thine  ! 


134  MENANDER  TO  PHILENIA. 


MENANDER  TO  PHILENIA. 

A  HE  star,  that  paves  the  blue  serene, 
Or  sparkles  on  the  brow  of  even, 

Courts  from  the  sun  that  lucid  mien, 
Which  gems  the  glittering  mine  of  heaven 

The  breeze,  that  spreads  its  Cassia  wing, 
Perfumes  the  breath  of  scentless  air 

From  rich  bouquets,  which  jocund  Spring 
Selects  from  Nature's  gay  parterre  : 

Thus  too,  Philenia,  muse  supreme, 
Whose  clear,  reflecting  pages  shine, 

Like  the  translucent,  crystal  stream, 
The  mirror  of  a  soul  divine  : 

Thus,  from  thy  lyre,  Menander's  ear 
The  song-inspired  vibration  caught ; 

Thus,  from  thy  hand,  his  temples  wear 
A  wreath,  which  thou  alone  hast  wrought. 

To  thee  his  muse  aspired  with  pride, 
And  sealed  her  carol  with  thy  name, 

Whose  signet  gave,  what  Heaven  denied, 
A  passport  at  the  door  of  Fame. 

True  merit  shines  with  native  light, 
Obscurest  shades  ne'er  cloud  its  blaze ; 

For,  diamond  like,  it  gilds  the  night, 
And  dazzles  with  unborrowed  rays. 


MENANDER  TO  PHILENIA.  135 

Hence,  with  a  zeal  of  equal  flame, 

The  world  has  with  Philenia  vied, 
While  Admiration  winged  her  fame, 

And  modest  Merit  blushed  to  hide. 

But,  ah,  thy  lavish  praise  forbear ! 

'Twere  madness  to  believe  it  due ; 
For  none,  but  Nature's  fondest  care, 

Deserves  a  glance  of  Fame  from  you. 

To  me  no  charms  of  verse  belong ; 

The  tints  of  every  classick  grace, 
Mild  Contemplation,  nurse  of  song, 

Beamed  from  thy  muse-illumined  face. 

When  thy  « lorn  pathos"  fills  the  gale, 

Wild  Fancy  learns  of  Truth  to  weep, 
Romance  forgets  her  tragick  tale, 

And  Werter  lulls  his. griefs  to  sleep. 

Serene,  amid  the  bursting  storm, 

You  check  the  frenzied  passion's  scope, 
And,  radiant  as  an  angel  form, 

Smile  on  the  death-carved  urn  of  Hope. 

Thy  magick  tears  leave  Slander  mute, 

They  melt  the  Stoick  heart  of  snow  j 
And  every  willow  on  thy  lute, 

Has  proved  a  laurel  for  thy  brow. 


136  SONNET  TO  PHILENIA. 


SONNET 


TO  PHILENIA,  ON  A  STANZA,  IN  HER  ADDRESS  TO  MYRA 


The  Stanza,  which  suggested   this  Sonnet,  is  highly  encomiastick  on  Mr, 
Paine.    It  is  here  given  from  the  Massachusetts  Magazine  of  Feb.  1793. 


"  Since  first  Affliction's  dreary  frown 

"  Gloomed  the  bright  summer  of  my  days, 

"Ne'er has  my  bankrupt  bosom  known 
"  A  solace,  like  his  peerless  praise." 


JL  HT  "  bosom  bankrupt  1" — fair  Peru  divine 
Of  every  mental  gem,  that  e'er  has  shone, 

In  dazzled  Fancy's  intellectual  mine, 
Or  ever  spangled  Virtue's  radiant  zone. 

Thy  "  bosom  bankrupt !" — Nature,  sooner  far, 
Shall  roll,  exhausted,  flowerless  springs  away ; 
Leave  the  broad  eye  of  noon,  without  a  ray, 

And  strip  the  path  to  heaven  of  every  star. 

Thy  "  bosom  bankrupt !" — Ah,  those  sorrows  cease, 
Which  taught  us,  how  to  weep,  and  how  admire  ; 

The  tear,  that  falls  to  soothe  thy  wounded  peace, 
With  rapture  glistens  o'er  thy  matchless  lyre. 

Ind  and  Golconda,  in  oney?rm  combined, 

Shall  sooner  bankrupt,  than  Philenia's  mind. 


TO  MfcNANDEU.  137 


THE  COUNTRY  GIRL  TO  MENANDER, 

V  ES  !  'twas  thy  numbers,  sailing  on  the  breeze^ 
Floating  in  rich  luxuriance,  'mongst  the  trees, 
That  caught  my  ear,  as  heedlessly  I  strayed, 
O'er  the  soft  velvet  of  the  verdant  glade. 
'Twas  thy  own  trembling  lyre,  I  knew  it  well, 
That  gave  the  magick  spring,  the  glowing  swell ; 
That,  borne  on  wings  seraphick,  glided  by, 
And  filled  my  soul,  with  richest  melody. 
Oft,  have  I  heard  thy  rapturous,  treasured  strains, 
When  roving  careless,  'midst  the  dewy  plains  ; 
Oft,  has  thy  well  known  lay  joyed  my  rapt  soul, 
When  sunk  unnoticed,  'neath  the  rising  knoll ; 
Whilst  catching  from  afar  the  golden  note, 
I've  bid  my  praises,  on  the  zephyrs  float.  ' 
Amid  thick  woods,  and  close  embowering  shades, 
Stupendous  rocks,  and  verdant  flowery  glades, 
I've  heard  thy  matchless,  thy  resistless  strains, 
Whilst  lilies  spread  them  o'er  the  lengthening  plains. 
To  thee  unknown,  except  by  kindred  fire, 
That  taught  me  how  to  love,  and  how  t'  admire, 
I've  hailed,  have  sung—and  oft  have  sought  to  gain 
One  sweet  responsive  chord,  to  my  dull  strain. 
Lost  to  all  thoughts,  or  cares,  for  other's  lays, 
Philenia's  brow  alone  thou  crown'st  with  bays ; 
To  her  rich  mine  a  monthly  tribute  send'st, 
Nor  to  a  younger  vot'ry  ever  lend'st 
A  single  warbling  note  of  love,  or  praise, 
Though  sought,  though  urged,  in  ev'ry  ardent  gaze- 
18 


138  TO  THE  COUNTRY  GIRL. 

STANZAS 

TO    THE    COUNTRY    GIRL. 

BLEST  nymph  unknown  !  fair  minstrel  of  the  plain  J 
When  lyres  of  swelling  grandeur  cease  to  please, 

Shall  charm  thy  simple,  nature-breathing  strain, 
Where  sweetens  Beauty's  tone  mellifluous  ease. 

Coerced  by  Fate,  my  Muse  had  sighed  farewell, 

A  long  farewell  to  all  Apollo's  train  j 
But  thou  hast  charmed  her  from  Retirement's  cell, 

And  strung  her  loosened,  tuneless  chords  again. 

Thus  while  pale  Morpheus  walks  his  midnight  rounds,. 

Soft  Musick's  echoing  voice  the  ear  invades  ; 
And,  Orpheus-like,  with  life  renewing  sounds, 

Recalls  the  soul"  from  Sleep's  unconscious  shades. 

Say,  in  what  region,  what  Arcadian  skies ; 

What  ville  Elysian,  what  Castalian  grove; 
Where  Tempean  bowers,  and  Attick  Edens  rise, 

The  school  of  Genius,  and  the  lap  of  Love  ? 

Oh  !  where,  O  !  tell  me,  where  is  thy  retreat  ? 

What  myrtles  twine  their  arms  to  shade  thy  path  ? 
What  Naiad's  grotto  forms  thy  mid-day  seat  ? 

What  bank  thy  couch,  what  envied  stream  thy  bath  ? 

Tell  me  but  this,  and  lo  !  Menander  flies, 
To  hail  the  fair,  whose  picture  Fancy  views ; 

TJ  unmask  the  face,  which  charms  him  in  disguise, 
And  clasp  the  Nymph,  as  he  has  kissed  the  Muse. 


- 


TO  MENANDER.  139 


THE  COUNTRY  GIRL  TO  MENANDER. 

OH  !  cease  thy  too  seducive  strain, 

Nor  touch  the  warbling  harp  again ; 

The  rapturing  tones  invade  my  heart, 

And  Peace  and  Rest  will  soon  depart ; 

Love,  with  his  downy,  purple  wing, 

Will  to  my  breast  his  roses  bring  ; 

But,  ah !  beneath  their  roseate  dye, 

The  sharpest  thorns  of  Anguish  lie  : 

Then  hush  the  enchanting,  soul-detaining  lyre, 

And  let  Indiff 'rence  quench  the  kindling  fire. 

Yet,  oh  'tis  rich,  to  hear  the  trilling  sounds ; 

On  the  full  swell, 

With  rapture  dwell, 
As  the  slow  numbers  steal  along  the  grounds ; 

Then  as  they  rise  in  air, 

And  on  the  fragrant  zephyrs  float, 

And  wanton  there, 
How  sweet,  to  catch  the  silver  note  ! 
But  Wisdom  wills  the  stern  decree, 
And  puts  a  lasting  bar,  'twixt  love  and  me. 
The  streams  of  joy,  that  Cupid  sips, 
And  where  he  laves  his  gilded  plumes, 
Must  never  glisten  on  the  lips, 
She  says,  where  sober  Wisdom  blooms. 

Thou  call'st  me  from  my  native  grove, 
And  bid'st  me  tell  where  'tis  I  rove  ; 


140  TO  THE  COUNTRY  GIRL, 

It  is,  the  Goddess  bids  me  say, 

Where  Love  and  thou  must  never  stray : 

Where  Peace  and  Pleasure  constant  bloom,. 

And  Rapture  smiles  around  the  tomb. 

But  though  alone,  with  mental  eye, 

This  form  thou  ne'er  must  view ; 

In  answer  to  this  deep  drawn  sigh, 

Breathe  me  one  last  adieu  ; 

So  may  full  tides  of  joy  around  thee  flow, 

And  life's  more  fragrant  flow'rets  ever  blow, 


SONNET 

TO    THE    COUNTRY    GIRL, 

.H.ASTE,  Zephyr,  fly,  and  waft  to  Anna's  ear 
This  bosom  echo— 'tis  my  heart's  reply ; 

Say,  to  her  notes  I  listened  with  a  tear, 

And  caught  the  sweet  contagion  of  a  "  sigh." 

But,  ah  !  that  "  last  adieu !"  oh  !  stern  request ! 

Cold,  as  those  tides  of  vital  ice,  that  roll 
Through  the  chilled  channels  of  the  maiden  breast, 

When  prudish  Sanctity  congeals  the  soul. 

O'er  Fancy's  fairy  lawn,  no  more  we  rove  ; 

No  more,  in  Rhyme's  impervious  hood  arrayed, 
Hold  airy  converse  in  the  Muse's  grove, 

While  you  a  shadow  seemed,  and  I  a  shade. 

For  know,  Menander  can  thy  features  trace, 

more  thy  verse  admire,  than  idolize  thy  face  I 


TO  ANNA-LOUISA.          •  141 


SONNET, 
t 

TO  ANNA-LOUISA,  ON  HER    ODE  TO  FANCY. 

OAY,  child  of  Phoebus  and  the  eldest  Grace, 
Whose  lyre  melodious,  and  enchanting  face, 

The  blendid  title  of  thy  birth  proclaim ; 
Say,  lovely  Naiad  of  Castalia's  streams, 
Why  thus  thy  Muse  on  Fiction's  pillow  dreams, 

And  fondly  woos  the  rainbow-mantled  Dame  ? 
When  stern  Misfortune,  with  her  Gorgon  frown> 
Congeals  the  fairy  face  of  Bliss  to  stone, 

Hope  to  the  horns  of  Fancy's  altar  flies ; 
But  what  gay  nun  would  seek  asylum  there, 
When  Beauty,  Love  and  Fortune  crown  the  fair, 

And  Hymen's  temple  greets  her  raptured  eyes  ? 
Then  haste,  sweet  nymph,  to  bless  the  ardent  youth; 
Then,  Fancy,  "  blush  to  be  excelled  by  Truth," 


STANZAS 

TO  ANNA,  ON  HER  VISIT  TO  PHILADELPHIA. 

V^OME,  power  ethereal,  whose  mellifluous  aid 
Taught  Shenstone's  lyre  with  dulcet  swell  to  move, 

Sweet,  as  the  minstrel  of  the  evening  shade, 
Soft,  as  the  languor  in  the  eye  of  Love  ! 


142  ,       TO  ANNA. 

Come,  lend  my  artless  hand  thy  magick  charm, 
To  deck  the  wreath,  on  Anna's  brow  entwined ; 

In  notes  majestick,  as  her  heavenly  form ; 
In  verse  irradiant,  as  her  brilliant  mind. 

From  the  bleak  sky  of  Boston's  sea-girt  shore, 
The  Sun  and  Anna  seek  benigner  plains ; 

Where'er  he  shines,  rude  Winter  storms  no  more, 
Where'er  she  visits,  Spring  florescent  reigns. 

She  smiles — and  all  the  Loves  their  arrows  wing ; 

She  moves — the  Goddess  by  her  gait  is  known ; 
She  chants— and  all  inspired,  the  Muses  sing ; 

She  speaks — 'tis  peerless  Anna's  self  alone  \ 

All  welcome,  lovely  fair-one,  queen  of  grace, 
Thou  sigh  and  hope,  by  every  heart  expressed; 

Add  to  the  sparkling  triumphs  of  thy  face, 
The  humble  tribute  of  Menander's  breast ! 


The  two" follow  ing  Pieces  were  written  in  answer  to  some  one,  who,  under 
the  signature  of  TRUTH,  had  attacked  Mr.  Paine  in  language,  here  distin- 
guished by  inverted  commas. 

TO  TRUTH. 

a  T) 

JLJEGS  not,  but  steals  !"  If  ought  with  furtive  view 

From  elder  bards  my  muse  hath  e'er  purloined, 

She  scorns  those  artless  thefts,  performed  by  you, 

Who  steal  the  dross,  but  leave  the  gold  behind. 

"  With  all  the  charms  of  lofty  nonsense  graced  !" 
Such  "  nonsense"  surely  can't  with  thine  agree ; 


TO  TRUTH.  143 

On  me  the  robes  of  Dulness  thou  hast  placed ; 
Thank  Heaven,  I'm  not  a  fool  in  rags,  like  thee. 

"  The  discounts  few !"  Hadst  thou,  dull  cynic,  cast 
O'er  Fame's  bright  ledger  a  correct  survey, 

There  thou  hadst  found  Philenia's  dues  so  vast, 
That  all  the  Muses  can't  the  interest  pay. 

Should'st  thou,  to  soothe  departed  Credit's  ghost, 
At  Taste's  or  Honour's  bank  present  a  note, 

With  Conon's  and  Ezekiel's  names  endorsed, 
And  were  the  sum  applied  for,  but  a  groat  s 

No  just  director,  were  the  signer  known, 

Would  trust  so  base  an  applicant  a  stiver ; 
To  thy  responsorship  would  clip  the  loan, 

And,  cent  per  cent,  curtail  it — to  a  cypher. 

Henceforth,  let  «  Truth"  a  liberal  spirit  learn, 
For  female  genius  claims  a  deathless  mead ; 

Henceforth  those  low,  aspersive  insults  spurn, 

Which  Truth  would  blush  to  write,  and  Genius  weep  to  read- 


TO  TRUTH. 

VV  ELL,  "  Truth,"  the  snails,  upon  the  tuneful  mount. 

Would  twist  and  lift  their  sluggish  limbs  about, 
While  thy  dull  fingers  duller  numbers  count, 

And  drag  the  limping  legs  of  Rhyme,  slow,  lin-ge-ring  out 


144.  TO  TRUTH. 

So,  "  Dulness"  owns  me  for  a  "  favourite  son  I5' 
Thank  ye,  good  Sir,  that  worse  ye  don't  abuse  us ; 

This  self-same  strumpet,  ere  her  time  was  run, 
Swore  thee  on  Chaos,  a  Natura  lusus  ! 

Ah  I  is  the  praise  of  fools  no  proof  of  merit  ? 

Their  censure,  surely  then,  an  envied  "  praise"  is, 
And  blest  be  all  the  stars,  that  I  inherit 

So  large  a  portion  of  your  evil  graces ! 

"  Then  dare  be  honest,  and  to  Knavery  own  ?" 
Hadst  thou  the  office  of  confessor  claimed, 

Then  might  I  kneel,  and  all  my  sins  make  known, 
To  one,  of  whom  e'en  "  Knavery"  is  ashamed  ! 

«  The  greatest  fool,  that  lives  !" — Why  heaves  that  groan? 

I'll  wear  no  wreath,  that  costs  my  friend  a  tear ; 
The  cap  receive  again,  'tis  thine  alone ; 

For  you,  like  Caesar,  find  on  earth  no  peer ! 

"  As  Sense,  the  accountant,  sure  has  entered  sound  1" 
This  error  on  the  clerk  of  "  Fame"  must  fall ; 

I'm  proud,  that  in  her  books  my  name  is  found ; 
With  thee  she  opens  no  account  at  all  I 

"  And  find  the  whole  amount  not  half  a  sous !" 
As  well  might  ants  about  the  Alps  declaim, 

And  garret-criticks  preach  upon  Peru, 

As  "  Truth"  the  lowest  coin  of  Genius  name. 

"  Philenia's  sergeant  I"  Pride  adores  the  thought ! 

The  humblest  halbert,  which  Pieria's  queen 
From  Taste's  bright  armoury  gives,  were  cheaply  bought 

With  all  the  epaulets  of  envious  Spleen  ! 


TO  TRUTH. 

Though  all  my  «  puffs'*  not  one  recruiter  drew, 
I'll  not  thy  more  successful  drumstick  rob ; 

Yes  !  oft  I've  heard  thee  beat  the  loud  tattoo, 
And  with  thy  long-roll  muster  Wapping's  mob ! 

Thy  Gorgon  train  array,  in  battle  ire ; 

Philenia  triumphs  with  unaided  Charms  ; 
Like  Rome's  illustrious  chief,  her  magick  lyre 

Could  speak  a  tuneful  Myriad  into  arms. 

•^ 

By  "  puffs"  Menander  "  seeks  his  fame  to  raise  !" 
Thy  sickly  fame  were  shocked  by  means  so  rough ; 

The  mildest  breath  puts  out  the  Taper's  blaze, 
And  bubbles  vanish  at  the  slightest'  "  puff  I" 

"  My  sinking  credit !"— Should  it  sink  to  wreck, 
'Tis  joy,  to  hear  thee  own,  my  credit  rose ; 

Thine,  by  a  fall,  can  never  break  its  neck, 
The  tide  can  never  ebb,  before  it  flows ! 

Thou  son  of  Zoilus,  hail !  His  pulpit  host 
Exult  in  thee,  a  second  leader  gained  ; 

Whose  greatest  praise  the  vilest  grub  might  boast ; 
Whose  only  glory  is  a  laurel  stained  ! 

But  I'll  no  longer  war  against  a  foe, 
On  whom  too  condescending  Justice  snears ; 

A  foe,  so  lost  to  every  tender  glow, 
That  Adamant  a  Sensitive  appears  ! 

The  surly  Critick,  who  with  envy  blind, 

To  shine  the  pedant,  with  the  man  would  part, 
In  Fame's  ascending  scale  may  raise  his  mind, 

While  in  the  falling  balance  sinks  his  heart. 
19 


146  ON  A  BAMBOO  FAN. 

Poor  is  the  ruffian  victor  of  the  field, 
Where  tortured  feelings  melt  the  female  eye, 

Where  wounded  Tenderness,  compelled  to  yield, 
Leads  the  barbarian's  triumph  with  a  sigh. 


STANZAS 

TO  A  YOUNG  LADY  ON  A  BAMBOO  FAN,  ACCIDENTALLY 
TORN. 


,  wanton  Toy,  'twas  thine  to  move, 

By  beauty's  lovely  queen  caressed  ; 
While,  waving,  like  the  wing  of  love, 

Thou  fanned'st  a  flame  in  every  breast! 
'Twas  thine,  hi  her  imperial  hand, 

The  cold  to  warm,  the  proud  subdue  ; 
The  female  Franklin's  magic  wand, 

Olivia's  sceptre,  sweet  Bamboo  ! 

Whene'er  the  Nymph  displayed  thy  chaitas 

Thy  airy  flutters  graceful  move  ; 
Each  bosom,  throbbing  soft  alarms, 

Appeared  an  aspen  leaf  of  love. 
And  while,  too  fondly,  thought  the  maid 

To  smile  unseen,  when  veiled  by  you  ; 
Her  treacherous  eyes  the  plot  betrayed, 

And  dazzled  through  the  thin  Bamboo-. 

But  oh  !  ye  LOVES,  whence  heaves  that  sigh, 
And  whence  those  tears,  ye  Graces,  flow  ? 

Why  swells  the  sorrow-glistening  eye  ? 
Why  ventilates  the  breast  of  woe  ? 


ON  A  BAMBOO  FAN.  147 

« JTis  rent !  Olivia's  fan  is  rent ! 

«  Farewell,  our  triumphs !  Fame,  adieu  I" 
Alas  1 — But  why,  this  wound  lament  ? 

'Tis  glory  to  your  loved  Bamboo  ! 

Two  rival  Zephyrs,  knights  of  air, 

Contended  for  Olivia's  lip ; 
To  dwell,  like  Epicureans  there, 

And  riot  on  the  nect'rous  sip ; 
To  that  pure  fount,  of  chaste  delight, 

These  Chesterfields  of  aether  flew  ; 
Rushed  on  the  Fan,  which  checked  their  sight, 

And  rudely  tore  the  soft  Bamboo. 

Ah  !  could  I  gain  the  ear  of  Jove, 

To  list  propitious  to  my  prayer, 
This  sole  request  my  wish  should  prove, 

That  I  thy  envied  form  might  bear. 
Then,  from  the  nymph  I'd  steal  a  kiss, 

And  sigh,  in  plaintive  zephyrs  too  j 
While  tender  tales  of  love  and  bliss, 

I'd  whisper  from  the  fond  Bamboo  1 


THE 


PRIZE  PROLOGUE: 


Spoken  in  the  character  of  Apollo. 


BY  MR.  C.  POWELL, 


AT  THE  OPENING  OF  THE  FIRST  THEATRE,  IN  BOSTON; 


JANUARY,    1794, 


ADVERTISEMENT. 

The  subsequent  Poem  was  originally  written  by  Mr.  Paine, 
for  a  Prologue  at  the  opening  of  the  Federal  Street  Theatre, 
in  1794.  It  was  spoken  by  Mr.  Charles  Powell,  thejirst  man- 
ager, and  afterwards  publishedin  the  Massachusetts  Magazine. 
The  Trustees  proposed  a  medal  for  the  best  Prologue.  Censors 
were  appointed  to  examine  and  award  ;  and  numerous  compet- 
itors crowded  the  list  for  the  Prize.  We  believe  there  was  no 
diversity  of  opinion  among  the  censors,  and  the  medal  was  ac- 
cordingly adjudged  to  Mr.  Paine.  Since  the  original  publication 
the  Poem  has  been  improved  and  greatly  ramified.  Mr.  Paine 
had  pourtrayed,  with  great  labour  and  skill,  and  finished  with 
the  most  -vivid  colouring,  the  characters  of  all  the  great  English 
dramatic  poets,  which,  had  he  lived  to  publish  his  own  works, 
he  would  have  incorporated  into  this  Poem.  The  sketch  of 
these  characters  he  considered,  as  the  most  perfect,  polished  and 
elevated  of  his  poetical  productions.  They  were  written  upon 
detached  pieces  of  paper,  and  through  negligence  or  casualty 
are  now  irrecoverably  lost.  His  profound  knowledge  of  the 
Drama,  and  his  familiar  intimacy  with  the  great  luminaries,  who 
have  adored  it  with  their  genius,  eminently  qualified  him  for  the 
undertaking.  None  of  his  fragments  could  have  been  more 
precious.  But,  like  the  mystic  leaves  of  the  sybil,  they  elude 
the  most  diligent  search,  and  cannot  be  embodied  with  his  works*. 

*  The  above  notices  are  communicated  to  the  editor,  and  the  pnbllck, 
by  a  gentleman  toho  remembers  to  have  seen  the  outlines  at  least,  of 
Shakespear'a,  Johnson's,  Fletcher's  and  Dryden's  characters,  as  sketched 
by  Mr. 


PRIZE  PROLOGUE. 

W  HEN  first,  o'er  Athens,  Learning's  dawning  ray 
Gleamed  the  dun  twilight  of  the  Attick  day ; 
To  charm,  improve,  the  hours  of  state  repose, 
The  deathless  father  of  the  Drama  rose. 
No  gorgeous  pageantry  adorned  the  show ; 
The  plot  was  simple,  and  the  scene  was  low. 
Without  the  wardrobe  of  the  Graces,  drest ; 
Without  the  mimick  blush  of  Art,  caressed  j 
Heroick  Virtue  held  her  throne  secure, 
For  Vice  was  modest,  and  Ambition  poor. 

But  soon  the  Muse,  by  nobler  ardours  fired, 
To  loftiest  heights  of  Scenick  verse  aspired. 
From  useful  Life  her  comick  fable  rose, 
And  Epick  passions  formed  her  tale  of  woes : 
The  daring  Drama  heaven  itself  explored, 
And  gods  descending  trod  the  Grecian  board. 
The  scene  expanding,  through  the  temple  swelled  $ 
Each  bosom  acted,  what  each  eye  beheld : 
Warm  to  the  heart,  the  chimick  Fiction  stole, 
And  purged,  by  moral  Alchymy,  the  soul. 

Hence  Artists  graced,  and  Heroes  nerved  the  age. 
The  sons  or  pupils  of  a  patriot  stage. 
Hence,  in  this  forum  of  the  virtues  fired, 
This  living  school  of  Eloquence  inspired  ; 


152  PRIZE  PROLOGUE. 

With  bolder  crest,  the  dauntless  warrior  strode ; 

With  nobler  tongue,  the  ardent  statesman  glowed  ^ 

The  void  of  Life  instinctive  morals  filled, 

And  Fame  herself  with  chaste  Ambition  thrilled ; 

Imperial  Grief  gave  social  Pity  birth, 

And  frightened  Folly  feared  instructive  Mirth. 

Thus  Athens  reigned  Minerva  of  the  globe ; 
First,  in  the  hemlet— fairest  in  the  robe ; 
In  arms  she  triumphed,  as  in  letters  shone, 
Of  Taste  the  palace,  and  of  War  the  throne. 

But,  lo  !  where,  rising  in  majestick  flight, 
The  Roman  eagle  sails  the  expanse  of  light ! 
His  wings,  like  Heaven's  vast  canopy,  unfurled, 
Stretch  their  broad  plumage  o'er  the  subject  world. 
Behold  I  he  soars,  where  climbing  Phoebus  rolls, 
And,  perching  on  his  car,  o'erlooks  the  poles  1 
Far,  as  the  chariot  winds  its  radiant  way, 
His  empire  follows  on  the  ebb  of  day ; 
And  Rome  and  Light  revolve  with  rival  fires, 
And  Cesar  governs,  when  the  Sun  retires. 

Bland  nurse  of  Genius  !  mother  queen  of  Grace  ! 
Lo  1  Cecrops*  throne  is  Ruin's  charnel  place  ! 
Long  ages  past,  with  beating  wing,  have  swept 
Thy  crumbling  tomb,  and  as  they  smote,  have  wept ; 
Now,  Time's  grey  eve,  serene  with  lingering  day, 
Sheds  o'er  thy  wrecks  his  sad  sepulchral  ray  ! 
Departed  Athens  !  round  thy  sullen  shores, 
Choakecl  with  thy  gods,  thy  vexed  Pyraeus  roars., 


PRIZE  PROLOGUE.  153 

Once  proud  to  glitter  where  thy  columns  stood, 
That  Heaven  might  see  thy  temples  in  his  flood. 
From  their  cold  altars  all  thy  priests  have  flown, 
And  hermit  Silence  worships  there  alone  ! 
O'er  thy  drear  mound  no  dirge  thy  muses  swell ; 
Mute  is  the  breath,  that  filled  their  votive  shell. 
Pierced  at  their  shrines,  the  sacred  sisters  fled, 
Veiled  their  stained  breasts,  and  pitied  while  they  bled ; 
Then,  grouped  in  air,  they  showed  the  wounds  they  bore, 
And  dropped  their  broken  lyres,  to  sound  no  more. 

e  Chissel's  life  still  loves  the  realm  it  graced, 
Andyveeps  in  marble  o'er  thy  sculptured  waste  ; 

broken  cenotaphs  and  mouldering  fanes, 
its  black  Despair,  while  pagan  Wonder  reigns ; 
Where  frowned  thy  Sages,  from  their  niches  thrown, 
The  prophet  raven  fills  the  vacant  stone  ; 
With  Arab  scars  the  Parian  hero  bleeds, 
And  Beauty's  statue  sleeps  in  groves  of  weeds ; 
Minerva's  temnj|Bknly  greets  the  stars, 
And  pirates  shei^H^  the  rock  of  Mars. 

Where  lightens  now,  theJDrama's  vivid  eye, 


Whose  glance  reformed,         re'er  its  beams  could  fly  f 
Who,  when  Desire  was  fond,  and  Art  was  young, 
So  rudely  sported,  and  so  simply  sung  ? 
Yet,  when  thy  realm  was  wild,  and  dark  with  fate, 
Could  charm  the  tumult,  and  allay  the  state  ? 
Could  gently  touch  the  film,  that  made  thee  blind, 
And  pour  new  day  p'er  thine  infatuate  mind  ? 

Where,  now,  thy  lofty  Muse,  thou  bard  divine  ! 
Who  bade  a  nation's  wealth  adorn  her  shrine  ! 
20 


PRIZE  PROLOGUE. 

Who,  graced  their  passions,  and  their  pride  to  move,, 
A  people's  homage,  and  a  senate's  love, 
With  gorgeous  drapery,  and  imperial  air, 
Awed  mobs  to  think,  and  "  wonder  why  they  were  ;" 
Who  with  her  pencil  moved  the  state  -machine* 
And  swayed  a  faction,  as  she  turned  a  scene  ; 
With  Art's  last  glories  bade  her  temple  flame, 
And  gave  to  Virtue,  all  she  won  from  Fame  ; 
Who  o'er  a  realm  her  vast  proscenium  threw, 
And  saw  all  Athens  in  one  splendid  view  ; 
With  Attick  genius  moral  truth  impressed, 
And  taught  a  nation,  while  she  charmed  a  guest  I 

In  vain  Illyssus  flowed,  or  Locris  bled, 
The  vital  virtue  of  my  heart  had  fled  ! 
What  though  to  victory  patriot  Valour  wades  ; 
Or  musing  Science  consecrates  thy  shades  ; 
While  thankless  Praise  on  dangerous  Glory  frowns, 
And  Envy  banishes,  whom  Fortune  cr^^flL 
While  the  blest  seer,  who  taught  all,  Nature  knew, 
Receives  a  chalice  for  the  heaven  he  drew. 


ge, 
lin 


In  vain  thy  Epick  heroes  wake    ph  ra 

And  stalk  like  spectres  o'er  thy  trembling  stage  ! 

Ruled  by  caprice,  with  varying  passion  raised, 

As  rhetorick  flattered,  or  as  triumph  blazed  ; 

Bound  by  no  law,  a  trope  could  not  repeal, 

Just  to  no  merit,  faction  could  not  feel  ; 

A  crowd  of  schools,  and  a  scholastick  crowd, 

Light,  though  forensick,  impotent,  though  loud  ; 

Wild  by  abstraction,  and  by  fiction  vain, 

Crude  by  refinement,  and  by  sense  insane  ; 


PRIZE  PROLOGUE.  155 

With  quick  conceits  thy  fickle  fancy  burned, 
With  learning  fooled  thee,  'till  thy  folly  learned ; 
With  clamoruus  Wisdom  waged  its  patriot  feud, 
'Till  words  alone  defended  publick  good. 
Disgusted  Pallas  her  allegiance  broke, 
Ilium  revived,  and  bade  thee  pass  the  yoke. 

Dear  wild  of  Genius  !  o'er  thy  mouldering  scene, 
While  Taste  explores,  where  Time's  rude  step  has  been, 
Thy  marble  fragments,  and  thy  desert  mart, 
Frown  Fate  to  Faction,  and  Despair  to  Art ; 
vAlike  they  mark  thy  frenzy  and  thy  fame, 
Record  thy  glory,  and  confess  thy  shame  ! 

Bare  and  defenceless  to  the  blast  of  war, 
The  gates  of  Greece  received  the  victor's  car ; 
Chained  to  his  wheels,  was  captive  Faction  led, 
And  Taste  transplanted  bloomed  at  Tyber's  head. 
O'er  the  rude  minds  of  Empire's  hardy  race, 
The  opening  pupil  beamed  of  lettered  grace. 
With  charms  so  sweet,  the  houseless  Drama  smiled, 
That  Rome  adopted  Athens  orphan  child : 
With  bounty  cloathed  her,  and  with  kindness  cheered* 
Her  fancy  copied,  and  her  satire  feared  j 
Vice,  fashion,  folly — to  her  power  resigned, 
And  bowed  an  empire  to  the  Muse's  mind. 
Wealth,  honour,  fame  her  Cesar's  hand  bestowed, 
Wit,  virtue,  grace  repaid  the  debt,  she  owed ; 
Life  breathed  in  fable,  eloquence  in  mien, 
And  manners  taught  how  morals  should  be  seen. 
From  Beauty's  touch  no  mail  could  guard  the  heart, 
Rome  conquered  science  and  was  ruled  by  art. 


156  PRIZE  PROLOGUE. 

Transplanted  Athens'  in  her  stage  revived, 

Her  patriots  mouldered,  but  her  poets  lived. 

Fledged  by  her  hand,  the  Mantuan  swan  aspired ; 

Glanced  by  her  eye,  e'en  Pompey's  self  retired  ; 

And  raptured  Tully  half  his  graces  caught, 

While  Roscius  bodied  all  the  forms  of  thought. 

Sheathed  was  the  sword,  by  which  a  world  had  bled  ; 

And  Janus  blushing  to  his  temple  fled  : 

The  Globe's  proud  butcher  grew  humanely  brave  ; 

Earth  staunched  her  wounds,  and  Ocean  hushed  his  wave. 

Augustan  Rome,  with  sad,  prophetick  eye, 
Beheld  her  empire  circle  round  the  sky ; 
And  saw  along  the  ever  rolling  view, 
Her  shadow  tremble,  as  her  pennons  flew. 
Around  her  throne  Pretorian  cohorts  stood, 
Yet  Fiction  governed  what  her  arms  subdued. 
O'er  vassal  man  she  dared  not  reign  alone, 
And  called  the  Drama  to  support  her  throne  ; 
And  shook  her  sceptre,  and  her  legions  led, 
When  spoke  the  Larva,  or  the  Arena  bled. 

At  length,  though  huge  of  limb,  by  power  oppressed, 
Groaning  with  Slavery's  mountain  on  their  breast, 
Her  giant  nations  struggled  from  disgrace, 
And  Rome,  like  .flLtna,  tottered  to  her  base. 

Thus  set  the  sun  of  intellectual  light, 
And,  wrapped  in  clouds,  lowered  on  the  Gothick  night< 
Dark  gloomed  the  storm — the  rushing  torrent  poured. 
And  wide  the  deep  Cimmerian  deluge  roared ; 


PRIZE  PROLOGUE.  157 

E'en  Learning's  loftiest  hills  were  covered  o'er, 
And  seas  of  dulness  rolled,  without  a  shore. 
Yet,  ere  the  surge  Parnassus'  top  o'erflowed, 
The  banished  Muses  fled  their  blest  abode. 
Frail  was  their  ark,  the  heaven  topped  seas  to  brave, 
The  wind  their  compass,  and  their  helm  the  wave ; 
No  port  to  cheer  them,  and  no  star  to  guide, 
From  clime  to  clime  they  roved  the  billowy  tide ; 
At  length,  by  storms  and  tempests  wafted  o'er, 
They  found  an  Ararat  on  Albion's  shore. 

Yet  sterile  proved  the  cold,  reluctant  Age, 
And  scarcely  seemed  to  vegetate  the  stage ; 
Nature,  in  dotage,  second  childhood  mourned, 
Outlived  her  wisdom,  and  to  straw  returned. 
But,  hark  !  her  mighty  rival  sweeps  the  strings ; 
Sweet  Avon,  flow  not ! — 'tis  thy  Shakespeare  sings ! 
With  Blanchard's  wing,  in  Fancy's  heaven  he  soars ; 
With  Herschel's  eye,  another  world  explores  ! 
Taught  by  the  tones  of  his  melodious  song, 
The  scenick  Muses  tuned  their  barbarous  tongue, 
With  subtle  powers  the  crudest  soul  refined, 
And  warmed  the  Zembla  of  the  dormant  mind. 
The  World's  new  queen,  Augusta,  owned  their  charms? 
And  clasped  the  Grecian  nymphs  in  British  arms. 

Then  triumphed  Nature  with  imperial  Art, 
The  Drama's  province  was  the  human  heart. 
No  tint  of  verse  can  paint  the  extatick  view, 
When  Garrick  sighed  the  Muse  his  last  adieu ! 
Description  but  a  shadow's  shade  appears, 
When  Siddons'  looks  a  nation  into  tears  J 


158  PRIZE  PROLOGUE. 

But,  ah  !  while  thus  unrivalled  reigns  the  Muse* 
Her  soul  o'erflows  and  Grief  her  face  bedews ; 
Sworn  at  the  altar,  proud  Oppression's  foe, 
She  weeps,  indignant  for  her  Britain's  woe. 
Long  has  she  cast  a  fondly  wishful  eye, 
On  the  pure  climate  of  the  Western  sky  j 
And  now,  while  Europe  bleeds  at  every  vein, 
And  pinioned  forests  shake  the  crimsoned  main  ; 
While  sea-walled  Britain  mid  the  tempest  stands, 
And  hurls  her  thunders  from  a  thousand  hands ; 
Lured  by  a  clime,  where,  hostile  arms  afar, 
Peace  rolls  luxurious  in  her  dove  drawn  car ; 
Where  Freedom  first  awoke  the  human  mind, 
And  broke  the  enchantment,  which  enslaved  mankind  ; 
Behold !  Apollo  seeks  this  liberal  plain, 
And  brings  the  Thespian  Goddess  in  his  train. 
O,  happy  realm  !  to  whom  are  richly  given 
The  noblest  bounties  of  indulgent  Heaven  ; 
For  whom  has  Earth  her  wealthiest  mine  bestowed, 
And  Commerce  bridged  old  Ocean's  broadest  flood  ; 
To  you  a  stranger  guest,  the  Drama,  flies  ; 
An  angel  wanders  in  a  pilgrim's  guise  ! 
To  charm  the  fancy  and  to  feast  the  heart, 
She  spreads  the  banquit  of  the  Scenick  art. 
By  you  supported,  shall  her  infant  stage 
Pourtray,  adorn,  and  regulate  the  age. 
When  rages  Faction  with  intemperate  sway, 
And  grey-haired  Vices  shame  the  face  of  day ; 
Drawn  from  their  covert  to  the  indignant  pit, 
Be  such  the  game  to  stock  the  park  of  Wit ; 
That  park,  where  Genius  all  his  shafts  may  dra\u 
Nor  dread  the  terrors  of  a  forest  law. 


PRIZE  PROLOGUE.  159 

But  not  to  scenes  of  pravity  confined, 
Her  polished  life  an  ample  field  shall  find ; 
Reflected  here,  its  fair  perspective,  view, 
The  stage,  the  Camera—the  landscape,  you. 

Ye  circling  fair,  whose  clustering  beauties  shine 
A  radiant  galaxy  of  charms  divine  ; 
Whose  gentle  hearts  those  tender  scenes  approve, 
Where  pity  begs,  or  kneels  adoring  love ; 
Ye  sons  of  sentiment,  whose  bosom  fire 
The  song  of  pathos,  and  the  epick  lyre  ; 
Whose  glowing  souls  with  tragick  grandeur  rise, 
When  bleeds  a  hero,  or  a  nation  dies ; 
And  ye,  who,  throned  on  high,  a  Synod  sit, 
And  rule  the  turbid  atmosphere  of  wit ; 
Whose  clouds  dart  lightening  on  our  comick  wires, 
And  burst  in  thunder,  as  the  flash  expires. 
If  here,  those  eyes,  whose  tears  with  peerless  sway, 
Have  wept  the  vices  of  an  Age  away  ; 
If  here,  those  lips,  whose  smiles  with  magick  art, 
Have  laughed  the  foibles  from  the  cheated  heart; 
On  Mirth's  gay  cheek,  can  one  bright  dimple  light ; 
In  Sorrow's  breast,  one  passioned  sigh  excite  ; 
With  nobler  streams,  the  Buskin's  grief  shall  fall ; 
With  pangs  sublimer,  throb  this  breathing  wall ; 
Thalia  too,  more  blythe,  shall  trip  the  stage, 
Of  Care  the  wrinkles  smooth,  and  thaw  the  veins  of  Age, 

And  now,  Thou  Dome,  by  Freedom's  patrons  reared. 
With  Beauty  blazoned,  and  by  Taste  revered  ; 
Apollo  consecrates  thy  walls  profane, — 
Hence  be  thou  sacred  to  the  Muses  reign  ! 


16O  PRIZE  PROLOGUE. 

In  Thee,  three  ages  in  one  shall  conspire ; 

A  Sophocles  shall  sweep  his  lofty  lyre ; 

A  Terence  rise,  in  chariest  charms  serene ; 

A  Sheridan  display  the  polished  scene  ; 

The  first,  with  epick  Grief  shall  swell  the  stage, 

And  give  to  virtue  fiction's  noblest  rage ; 

The  second,  laws  to  Beauty  shall  impart, 

And  copy  nature  by  the  rules  of  art ; 

The  last,  great  master,  ends  invention's  strife, 

And  gilds  the  mirror,  which  he  holds  to  life  ! 

Thy  classick  lares  shall  exalt  our  times, 

With  distant  ages  and  remotest  climes  ; 

And  Athens,  Rome,  Augusta,  blush  to  see, 

Their  virtue,  beauty,  grace,  all  shine — combined  in  thee. 


THE 

INVENTION  OF  LETTERS: 

A  POEM, 

WRITTEN   AT    THE    REQUEST    OF    THE    PRESIDENT    OF 

HARVARD  UNIVERSITY; 
AND  DELIVERED,  IN  CAMBRIDGE,  ON  THE  DAY  OF  ANNUAL 

COMMENCEMENT,  JULY  15,  1795. 


TO  HIS  EXCELLENCY 


GEORGE  WASHINGTON, 


WHOSE  CIVICK  AND  MILITARY  VIRTUES  DESERVE  A  NOBLER 


EULOGIUM,  THAN  THE 


« INVENTION  OF  LETTERS' 


CAN  BESTOW, 


THIS    POEM 


IS  RESPECTFULLY  INSCRIBED,  BY  AN  OBEDIENT 


AND  GRATEFUL  CITIZEN, 


THE  AUTHOR, 


THE 


INVENTION  OF  LETTERS. 


SCARCE  had  the'cedar  cleft  the  virgin  wave, 
That  erst  to  Tyre  its  chaste  embraces  gave ; 
Scarce  had  the  bbld  Phoenician,  forced  to  roam 
By  barren  nature  and  a  desert  home  ; 
His  vales  of  rock  exchanged  for  Ocean's  field, 
And  left  the  plough's,  the  trident's  beam  to  wield  ? 
When  Cadmus,  eldest  heir  of  classick  fame, 
First  gave  each  element  of  thought  a  name. 
Of  oral  tongue  the  varying  sounds  he  caught, 
For  every  tone  a  varying  emblem  wrought ; 
From  signs  a  word ;  from  words  a  period  flows ;. 
A  page  succeeds,  and  next  a  volume  grows, 

Thus,  on  the  surface  of  the  polished  rind, 
He  sketched  the  features  of  the  viewless  mind^ 
At  length  aspired  to  rhetorick's  colouring  grace, 
And  pictured  thought,  as  artists  shade  the  face. 

Now  to  Achaia's  rude,  unlettered  shore, 
His  glorious  art  the  bold  discoverer  bore. 
In  that  calm  seat  of  innocence  and  ease, 
Where  Nature  strove  to  bless,  and  Life  to  please : 


164  THE  INVENTION  OF  LETTERS. 

No  ruffling  passion  shook  the  placid  breast, 

For  Anger's  fluid  surface  was  at  rest. 

With  rising  sun,  the  swain  his  course  renewed, 

His  flock  conducted,  or  his  Daphne  wooed ; 

And  when  his  vows  she  heard  in  dale  or  grove, 

Her  smile  was  friendship  ;  but  her  blush  was  love, 

No  jealous  fear,  as  roving  arm  in  arm, 

Her  brow  could  wrinkle,  or  her  heart  alarm ; 

As  chaste,  as  Eve,  when  she,  in  virtue  pure, 

Without  a  fig-leaf  thought  her  charms  secure. 

Soon,  for  the  sceptre,  was  the  crook  resigned, 
And  arts  and  arms  employed  the  active  mind. 
From  Attick  climes,  the  Cadmean  tablet  spread, 
And  Roman  eyes  the  page  of  Athens  read. 
By  Genius  sunned,  by  fond  Ambition  nursed, 
Forth  from  its  germ  the  flower  of  Science  burst. 
Now  rose  the  temple ;  now  the  clarion  rung ; 
The  forum  thundered,  and  the  Muses  sung  : 
Now  flew  the  shuttle  ;  now  the  quarry  broke  j 
There  breathed  the  canvass  ;  here  the  marble  spoke. 

Be  such  the  lay  to  sons  of  elder  time, 
Whose  green  tombs  flourish  in  immortal  prime. 
May  no  rude  Saracen's  unhallowed  tread 
Profane  the  ashes  of  the  classick  dead  1 
But  let  the  pedant,  whelmed  in  learned  dust, 
Who  values  Science  only  for  its  rust, 
No  more  presume  with  bigot  zeal  to  raise, 
O'er  modern  worth,  the  palm  of  ancient  days. 
No  more  let  Athens  to  the  world  proclaim, 
Her  classick  phalanx  holds  the  field  of  fame  , 


THE  INVENTION  OF  LETTERS.  165 


No  more  let  delving  Tyre's  mechanic  host 

The  birth  of  letters,  as  of  commerce,  boast ; 

And  thou,  proud  Tyber  I  vaunt  those  waves  no  more, 

Which  once  a  Cesar  bathed,  a  Virgil  bore  ! 

The  barbarous  Rhine  now  blends  its  classick  name* 

With  Rome's,  Phoenicia's,  and  Achaia's  fame  ; 

See,  midst  her  waves,  their  fragrance  to  restore, 

He  dips  the  laurels,  which  your  heroes  wore  ; 

Green  with  new  life,  and  chastened  of  their  dust, 

Restores  each  chaplet  to  its  votive  bust. 

Sovereign  of  Art,  Invention's  noblest  son, 

He  claims  the  bays,  which  every  art  has  won  j 

Of  fame  unenvious,  living  worth  rewards, 

And  loves  the  genius,  which  his  page  records. 

Egyptian  shrubs,  in  hands  of  cook  or  priest, 
A  king  could  mummy,  or  enrich  a  feast ; 
Faustus,  great  shade  !  a  nobler  leaf  imparts, 
Embalms  all  ages,  and  preserves  all  arts. 

The  ancient  scribe,  employed  by  bards  divine, 
With  faultering  finger  traced  the  lingering  line. 
So  few  the  scrivener's  dull  profession  chose, 
With  tedious  toil  each  tardy  transcript  rose  ; 
And  scarce  the  Iliad,  penned  from  oral  rhyme, 
Grew  with  the  bark,  that  bore  its  page  sublime. 

But  when  the  Press,  with  fertile  womb,  supplies 
The  useful  sheet,  on  thousand  wings  it  flies  ; 
Bound  to  no  climate,  to  no  age  confined, 
The  pinioned  volume  spreads  to  all  mankind. 


166  THE  INVENTION  OF  LETTERS. 

No  sacred  power  the  Cadmean  art  could  claim, 
O'er  time  to  triumph,  and  defy  the  flame  : 
In  one  sad  day  a  Goth  could  ravage  more, 
Than  ages  wrote,  or  ages  could  restore. 

The  Roman  hemlet,  or  the  Grecian  lyre, 
A  realm  might  conquer,  or  a  realm  inspire ; 
Then  sink,  oblivious,  in  the  mouldering  dust, 
With  those  who  blest  them,  and  with  those  who  curst. 
What  guide  had  then  the  lettered  pilgrim  led, 
Where  Plato  moralized ;  where  Cesar  bled  ? 
What  page  had  told,  in  lasting  record  wrought, 
The  world  who  butchered,  or  the  world  who  taught  ? 

Thine  was  the  mighty  power,  immortal  sage  ! 
To  burst  the  cearments  of  each  buried  age. 
Through  the  drear  sepulchre  of  sunless  Time, 
Rich  with  the  trophied  wrecks  of  many  a  clime, 
Thy  daring  genius  broke  the  pathless  way, 
And  brought  the  glorious  relicks  forth  to  day. 

To  thee  the  historian's  pen,  indebted,  owes 
The  map  of  ages,  which  his  page  bestows  : 
From  thee  e'en  Fame  inhales  the  air,  she  breathes, 
And  crowns  thy  brows  with  tributary  wreathes  ! 

The  Press,  that  engine,  formed  to  rouse  mankind, 
To  expand  the  heart,  and  civilize  the  mind, 
In  feats,  like  these,  each  statesman  has  outdone, 
From  Nimrod's  house  of  peers,  to  Chatham's  peerless  son  1 


THE  INVENTION  OF  LETTERS. 

By  Freedom  guarded,  and  by  Virtue  graced, 
It  weeds  the  morals,  while  it  prunes  the  taste. 
But  when,  in  thraldom  of  oppressive  chains, 
The  curb  of  power  the  liberal  press  restrains, 
Vice,  who  has  charms,  Circassia  never  knew, 
In  voice  a  Circe,  and  in  poison  too, 
With  luring  dimples,  and  with  wanton  smiles, 
The  eye  enamours,  and  the  heart  beguiles, 
In  publick  veins  her  foul  infections  roll, 
Seduce  the  nation,  and  corrupt  its  soul. 

Had  Vulcan's  web,  which  once,  in  realm  of  Jove, 
Trapped  in  crim.  con.  the  tripping  queen  of  love, 
Of  late  at  Gaul's  lascivious  court  been  spread, 
Ere  fettered  Type  from  dread  Bastile  was  led ;         , 
The  magick  seine,  such  shoals  its  wires  had  caught. 
Like  Peter's  net,  had  broken  with  the  draught ! 

The  mystick  Fossil,  whose  attracted  soul, 
With  fond  affection,  seeks  its  kindred  pole, 
To  bless  the  globe,  had  ne'er  explored  the  wave> 
But,  Cortes-like,  discovered  to  enslave. 
Had  letters  ne'er  the  bold  ambition  crowned, 
And  Printing  polished  what  the  magnet  found ; 
In  vain  had  Gama  traced  the  orient  way, 
And  Europe  stretched  her  wings  'mid  Indian  day ; 
In  vain  Columbus,  spurning  Neptune's  roar, 
Gave  earth  a  balance,  and  the  sea  a  shore, 
'Till  truth-winged  Science,  bursting  Error's  night, 
Shed  her  religion,  where  she  beamed  her  light. 


168  THE  INVENTION  OF  LETTERS. 

But  most  that  triumph  of  the  press  we  prize, 
Which  bade  the  slumbering  rights  of  Nature  rise  ; 
Stripped  of  his  mask,  the  despot's  face  displayed, 
And  showed  the  world  the  monster,  they  obeyed. 

Not  Tell's  fleet  arrow  sped  with  surer  art  ; 
Not  Corde's  dagger  deeper  cleft  the  heart ; 
Not  tower-armed  elephant,  nor  bursting  mine, 
The  battering  aries,  nor  the  blazing  line, 
With  deadlier  prowess  spread  their  fatal  rage, 
Than  Type,  indignant  for  an  injured  age. 
When  patriots,  leagued  a  nation  to  redress, 
At  tyrants  point  the  artillery  of  the  press, 
Loud,  o'er  the  gorgeous  canopy  of  state, 
It  falls,  like  Erie ;  and  it  strikes,  like  Fate ; 
Wide  as  La  Plata,  as  the  Andes  high, 
Its  thunders  echo,  and  its  lightnings  fly ; 
To  heaven  appealed,  ascends  the  dread  decree ; 
The  tyrant  falls— America  is  free  ! 

Long  may  our  nation  guard  the  rights,  she  boasts ; 
Green  be  the  tombs  where  sleep  her  patriot  hosts. 
May  war-worn  Scipio  reap  the  field,  he  gained, 
Nor  see  his  laurels  stripped,  his  honour  stained ! 
Ne'er  may  a  warrior's  urn  reproach  the  brave, 
Ungrateful  Rome,  thou  can'st  not  rob  my  grave  ! 

By  smiling  Peace,  and  fruitful  vallies  blest, 
By  freemen  loved,  by  distant  climes  caressed, 
Columbia  rules  a  brave  and  generous  land, 
And  scatters  blessings,  where  her  laws  command. 


THE  INVENTION  OF  LETTERS.  169 

What  though  no  wave  Pactolian  laves  her  shore, 

Nor  gleam  her  caverns  with  Peruvian  ore ; 

Rich  is  the  soil,  through  which  her  rivers  run, 

And  all  her  diamonds  ripen  in  the  sun. 

Let  torrid  climes  in  sterile  caves  infold 

Their  gleaming  vineyards  of  luxuriant  gold ; 

Let  India  boast  the  philosophick  churl, 

Who  starves  an  oyster,  to  create  a  pearl. 

THEE  happier  wealth,  Columbia,  Fate  has  given, 

Nor  gleans  from  famine  what  descends  from  heaven. 

Thy  native  mines  nor  rod  nor  art  require, 

To  dig  by  magick,  nor  to  purge  by  fire  ; 

And  chymick  skill,  thy  glittering  veins  to  trace, 

Resigns  thy  bosom,  to  survey  thy  face. 

Beneath  the  shade,  which  Freedom's  oak  displays, 
Their  votive  shrine  Apollo's  offspring  raise. 
With  youthful  Fancy,  or  with  matron  Taste, 
They  cull  the  meadow,  or  explore  the  waste ; 
Each  tract,  they  culture,  verdant  life  perfumes ; 
With  Judgment  ripens,  or  with  Genius  blooms. 

In  strength  of  scene,  delights  a  Ramsay's  page ;  ' 
With  classick  truth,  a  Belknap  charms  the  age ; 
In  cloudless  splendour,  modest  Minot  shines ; 
And  Bunker  flames,  in  Allen's*  glowing  lines. 
By  sister  arts  and  kindred  powers  allied, 
The  Trumbulls  rise,  the  lyre's  and  pencil's  pride ; 
And  every  muse  has  carved  Philenia's  name, 
On  every  laurel  in  the  grove  of  Fame. 

*  Mr.  James  Allen,  of  Boston ;    author  of  a  celebrated  manuscript  poem, 
entitled,  "The  Battle  of  BwikeSs  Hill." 

22 


17O  THE  INVENTION  OF  LETTERS. 

From  Harvard's  fount,  by  native  springs  supplied* 
Presiding  Science  rolls  her  copious  tide. 
Blest  seat  of  letters,  to  thy  sacred  walls 
This  festive  day  my  fond  remembrance  calls ! 
In  Life's  broad  road,  whatever  my  path  may  be, 
Full  oft  shall  Memory  turn  to  gaz^  on  thee ; 
Still,  like  some  faithful  ghost,  delight  to  dwell, 
And  hover  o'er  the  spot,  she  loved  so  well ! 

A  lurking  moth  in  every  art  we  find, 
That  braves  the  weakness  of  the  human  mind. 
Born  in  the  pore,  it  burrows  through  the  heart, 
And  kills  the  oak,  whose  leaf  it  could  not  start* 

In  yon  drear  garret,  Faction's  dark  recess, 
Her  nightly  daemons  load  the  groaning  press. 
With  cobwebs  hung,  she  rubs  her  sleepless  eyes, 
While  Norfolk  spiders  weave  her  half-spun  lies. 
Her  motley  brood  by  law,  nor  gospel  tied, 
Whom  honour  cannot  bind,  nor  reason  guide, 
The  dregs  of  nature  and  of  vice  compose ; 
For  Envy  these  creates,  and  Folly  those. 
In  tricks  expert,  or  buzzing  on  the  wing, 
Like  apes,  they  mimick,  or,  like  insects,  sting  I 
And  still  another  useless  proof  supply—- 
The sun  that  warms  a  monkey,  breeds  a  fly  I 

For  place  or  power,  while  demagogues  contend, 
Whirled  in  their  vortex,  sinks  each  humbler  friend. 
See  Crispin  quit  his  stall,  in  Faction's  cause, 
To  cobble  government,  and  soal  the  laws  I 


THE  INVENTION  OF  LETTERS.  171 

See  Frisseur  scent  his  dust,  his  razor  set, 

To  shave  the  treaty,  or  to  puff  Genet ! 

In  doubtful  mood,  see  Mulciber  debate, 

To  mend  a  horse-shoe,  or  to  weld  the  state  ! 

The  whip's  bold  knight,  in  barn,  his  truck  has  laid, 

To  spout  in  favour  of  the  carrying  trade  ! 

While  Staytape  runs,  from  hissing  goose,  too  hot, 

To  measure  Congress  for  another  coat ; 

And  still,  by  rule  of  shop,  intent  on  pelf, 

Eyes  the  spare  cloth,  to  cabbage  for  himself ! 

Envy,  that  fiend,  who  haunts  the  great  and  good, 
Not  Cato  shunned,  nor  Hercules  subdued. 
On  Fame's  wide  field,  where'er  a  covert  lies, 
The  rustling  serpent  to  the  thicket  flies ; 
The  foe  of  Glory,  Merit  is  her  prey ; 
The  dunce  she  leaves,  to  plod  his  drowsy  way. 
Of  birth  amphibious,  and  of  Protean  skill, 
This  green-eyed  monster  changes  shape  at  will ; 
Like  snakes  of  smaller  breed,  she  sheds  her  skin  ; 
Strips  off  the  serpent,  and  turns — Jacobin. 

Each  hero's  seat  her  lawless  steps  invade, 
From  George's  banks,  to  Vernon's  laurel  shade. 
E'en  to  thy  brow,  immortal  Freedom's  Sire  ! 
Her  pagan  hands,  in  sacrilege,  aspire  ! 
Can'st  thou,  great  Chief,  her  thankless  sons  forgive, 
Who  owe  to  thee  the  soil,  on  which  they  live  ? 
These  senseless  reptiles,  who,  with  Slander's  bane, 
The  bright  medallion  of  thy  life  would  stain, 
Yield  to  the  glories  of  thy  deathless  name, 
The  noblest  tribute  ever  paid  by  fame. 


172  THE  INVENTION  OP  LETTERS. 

The  beams  of  Phoebus  shower  their  brightest  blaze, 
When  Heaven  is  shadowed  by  the  clouds  they  raise : 
And  the  proud  pyramids,  that  propped  the  sky, 
Whose  spires  were  scarcely  kenned  by  mortal  eye ; 
Whose  height  the  loftiest  strides  of  Art  surpassed, 
Were  measured  only  by  the  shade  they  cast. 

Oh,  WASHINGTON  !  thou  hero,  patriot,  sage  ! 
Friend  of  all  climates  ;  pride  of  every  age  ! 
Were  thine  the  laurels,  every  soil  could  raise, 
The  mighty  harvest  were  penurious  praise. 
Well  may  our  realms  thy  Fabian  wisdom  boast ; 
Thy  prudence  saved,  what  bravery  had  lost. 
Yet  e'er  hadst  thou,  by  Heaven's  severer  fates, 
Like  Sparta's  hero  at  the  Grecian  straits, 
Been  doomed  to  meet,  in  anus,  a  world  of  foes, 
Whom  skill  could  not  defeat,  nor  walls  oppose ; 
Then  had  thy  breast,  by  danger  ne'er  subdued, 
The  mighty  buckler  of  thy  country  stood ; 
Proud  of  its  wounds,  each  piercing  spear  would  bless, 
Which  left  Columbia's  foes  one  javelin  less ; 
Nor  felt  one  pang,  but,  in  the  glorious  deed, 
Thy  little  band  of  heroes,  too,  must  bleed ; 
Nor  throbbed  one  fear,  but,  that  some  poisoned  dart 
Thy  breast  might  pass,  and  reach  thy  country's  heart ! 

By  Heaven  ordained,  ne'er  in  the  sea  of  Fame 
Shall  sit  the  disk  of  thy  resplendent  name ; 
But,  like  yon  Arctick  star,  forever  roll, 
In  ceaseless  orbit,  round  the  glowing  pole. 


THE  INVENTION  OF  LETTERS.  373 

Could  Faustus  live,  by  gloomy  Grave  resigned ; 
With  power  extensive,  as  sublime  his  mind, 
Thy  glorious  life  a  volume  should  compose, 
As  Alps  immortal,  spotless  as  its  snows. 
The  stars  should  be  its  types— its  press  the  age  ; 
The  earth  its  binding — and  the  sky  its  page. 
In  language  set,  not  Babel  could  o'erturn ; 
On  leaves  impressed,  which  Omar  could  not  burn ; 
The  sacred  work  in  Heaven's  high  dome  should  stand, 
Shine  with  its  suns,  and  with  its  arch  expand  ; 
'Till  Nature's-self  the  Vandal  torch  should  raise, 
And  the  vast  alcove  of  Creation  blaze  ! 


THE 


RULING  PASSION; 


OCCASIONAL  POEM, 

WRITTEN   BY   THE    APPOINTMENT    OF  THE    SOCIETY 
OF   THE 

PHI  BETA  KAPPA; 

AND  SPOKEN,  ON  THEIR  ANNIVERSARY,  IN  THE 

CHAPEL  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY,  CAMBRIDGE, 
JULY  20,  1797. 


THE 


RULING    PASSION. 


JK-ANGE  we  through  Nature's  social  walks,  to  scan 
That  little  world,  that  greater  wonder,  man. 
The  Sage's  study,  which  but  few  improve  ; 
Religion's  mystery,  which  none  remove  ; 
Reason's  proud  toy ;  in  his  machine  unite 
Powers,  dense  as  earth ;  conceptions,  rare  as  light ; 
Its  wheels  more  complex,  than  the  central  sphere, 
Which  guides  a  comet,  while  it  moulds  a  tear ; 
Its  springs  more  subtle,  than  the  secret  soul, 
Which  bids  a  world  cohere,  an  atom  roll. 

Less  by  himself,  than  others,  understood ; 
More  led  by  sense,  yet  more  with  mind  endued  ; 
His  nature  ^tener  sets  our  world  at  odds, 
Than  Jove,  in  Ovid's  "Green-Room"  of  the  gods. 

Since,  then,  the  wisest  are  as  dull,  as  we, 
In  one  grave  maxim  let  us  all  agree ; 
Nature  ne'er  meant  her  secrets  should  be  found, 
And  man's  a  riddle,  which  man  can't  expound  ! 
23 


178  THE  RULING  PASSION. 

Then  let  us  shun  the  rapt  seer's  loftier  flight, 
For  paths  more  pervious  to  our  ken  of  sight ; 
Vain  were  our  pride,  like  Icarus  of  yore, 
In  realms  of  fire,  on  wings  of  wax,  to  soar ; 
Ours  be  the  Muse,  who  humbler  tracts  essays  ; 
Descends  from  theory,  and  life  portrays. 
On  what  man  zs,  the  schools  may  disagree, 
We  only  know  him,  as  he  seems  to  be. 

In  beings,  formed  their  own  pursuits  to  guide, 
No  wonder  moves  it,  and  excites  no  pride, 
When  bards,  less  curious  than  Lavater,  find 
Some  spring  of  action  ruling  every  mind. 

Like  Egypt's  gods,  man's  various  passions  sway  $ 
Some  prowl  the  earth,  and  some  ascend  the  day : 
This  charms  the  fancy,  that  the  palate  feasts ; 
A  motley  Pantheon  of  birds  and  beasts  ! 

Were  the  wild  brood,  who  dwell  in  glade  and  brake. 
Some  kindred  character  of  man  to  take  ; 
In  the  base  jackall's,  or  gay  leopard's  mien, 
The  servile  pimp,  or  gay  coquette,  were  seen ; 
The  patient  camel,  long  inured  to  dine 
But  once  a  fortnight,  would  a  poet  shine  ; 
The  stag,  a  cit,  with  antlered  brows  content ;      0 
The  rake,  a  pointer,  always  on  the  scent ; 
The  snake,  a  statesman ;  and  the  wit,  a  gnat ; 
The  ass,  an  alderman ;  the  scold,  a  cat ; 
The  wife,  a  ring-dove,  on  the  myrtle's  top ; 
The  wolf,  a  lawyer ;  the  baboon,  a  fop  ! 


THE  RULING  PASSION.  179 

Life  is  a  print-shop,  where  the  eye  may  trace 
A  different  outline,  marked  in  every  face ; 
From  chiefs,  who  laurels  reap  in  fields  of  blood, 
Down  to  the  hind,  who  tills  those  fields  for  food ; 
From  the  lorn  nymph,  in  cloistered  abbey  pent, 
Whose  friars  teach  to  love,  and  to  repent, 
To  the  young  captive  in  the  Haram's  bower, 
Blest  for  a  night,  and  empress  of  an  hour ; 
From  ink's  retailers,  perched  in  garret  high, 
Cobwebbed  around  with  many  a  mouldy  lie ; 
Down  to  the  pauper's  brat,  who,  luckless  wight  I 
Deep  in  the  cellar  first  received  the  light ; 
All,  all  impelled,  as  various  passions  move, 
To  write,  to  starve,  to  conquer,  or  to  love  ! 
All  join  to  shift  Life's  versicoloured  scenes, 
Priests,  poets,  fiddlers,  courtesans  and  queens  ; 
And  be  it  pride,  or  dress,  or  wealth,  or  fame, 
The  acting  principle  is  ne'er  the  same. 
Each  takes  a  different  rout,  o'er  hill,  or  vale, 
The  tangled  forest,  or  the  greensward  dale. 
But  they,  who  chiefly  crowd  the  field,  are  those, 
Who  live  by  fashion— constables  and  beaus. 
The  first,  I  ween,  are  men  of  high  report, 
The  law's  staff-officers,  and  known  at  court. 
The  last,  sweet  elves,  whose  rival  graces  vie, 
To  wield  the  snuff-box,  or  enact  a  sigh  : 
To  Fashion's  gossamer  their  lives  devote, 
The  frieze,  the  cane,  the  cravat  and  the  coat. 
In  taste  unpolished,  yet  in  ton  precise, 
They  sleep  at  theatres,  and  wake  at  dice  ; 
While,  like  the  pilgrim's  scrip,  or  soldier's  pack, 
They  carry  all  their  fortune  on  their  back. 


ISO  THE  RULING  PASSION. 

From  fops,  we  turn  to  pedants,  deep  and  dull ; 
Grave,  without  sense ;  "o'erflowing,  yet  not  full." 
See,  the  lank  book-worm,  piled  with  lumbering  lore, 
Wrinkled  in  Latin,  and  in  Greek  fourscore, 
With  toil  incessant,  thumbs  the  ancient  page, 
Now  blots  a  hero,  now  turns  down  a  sage  1 
O'er  Learning's  field,  with  leaden  eye  he  strays, 
Mid  busts  of  fame,  and  monuments  of  praise. 
With  Gothick  foot,  he  treads  on  flowers  of  taste, 
Yet  stoops  to  pick  the  pebbles  from  the  waste. 
Profound  in  trifles,  he  can  tell,  how  short 
Were  jEsop's  legs,  how  large  was  Tully's  wart ; 
And,  scaled  by  Gunter,  marks,  with  joy  absurd, 
The  cut  of  Homer's  cloak,  and  Euclid's  beard  ! 

Thus  through  the  weary  watch  of  sleepless  night, 
This  learned  ploughman  plods  in  piteous  plight ; 
'Till  the  dim  taper  takes  French  leave  to  doze, 
And  the  fat  folio  tumbles  on  his  toes. 

Born  in  the  fens  of  Dulness,  dank  and  mute, 
Where  lynx  might  sleep,  and  half-starved  owlet  hoot ; 
With  head  of  adamant,  and  nerves  of  steel ; 
Without  or  pulse  to  throb,  or  soul  to  feel ; 
Not  Warren's  glory  could  one  bliss  supply, 
Nor  Trenck's  captivity  excite  a  sigh. 
Should  Beauty's  queen,  in  all  her  charms  disclosed, 
As  when  to  Paris'  wondering  eyes  exposed!, 
She  loosed  her  cestus,  and  unyoked  her  doves, 
And  stood  unveiled  'mid  Ida's  conscious  groves, 
Attempt,  with  lovliest  attitude  of  Art, 
To  warm  the  polar  current  of  his  heart ; 


THE  RULING  PASSION.  181 

Vain  were  the  toil,  as  Alexander's  plan, 
To  carve  mount  Athos  to  the  form  of  man  ! 

Next  in  the  group,  a  love-lorn  maid  we  trace, 
Whose  heart  was  virtue,  and  whose  form  is  grace. 
In  Life's  gay  prime,  when  passion,  pure  as  truth, 
Bids  the  blood  frolick  through  the  veins  of  youth  ; 
The  plighted  vow  her  easy  ear  received, 
The  proffered  faith  her  glowing  heart  believed, 
Artless  herself,  she  thought  the  world  so  too. 
Nor  feared  those  vices,  which  she  never  knew. 
Ill-fated  girl,  thy  erring  steps  declare, 
Truth  should  suspect,  and  Innocence  beware  I 

Ere,  ripe  for  bliss,  consenting  hearts  unite  ; 
Ere  retrospection  chill  the  young  delight ; 
The  airy  web  of  Fancy's  dreams  to  prove, 
Unbind  the  bandeau  from  the  brow  of  Love  ! 

Sad  be  the  hour,  in  Memory's  page  forlorn ; 
The  cypress  shade  it,  and  the  willow  mourn  ; 
When  the  fond  maid,  subdued  in  Reason's  trance, 
Child  of  Desire,  and  pupil  of  Romance, 
Beneath  the  pensile  palm,  or  aloed  grove, 
Like  Cleopatra,  yields  the  world  for  love. 
Poor  is  the  trophy  of  seductive  Art, 
Which,  but  to  triumph,  subjugates  the  heart ; 
Or,  Tarquin-like,  with  more  licentious  flame, 
Stains  manly  truth  to  plunder  female  fame. 
Life's  deepest  penace  never  can  atone, 
For  Hope  deluded,  or  for  Virtue  flown, 


182  THE  RULING  PASSIOX. 

Yet  such  there  are,  whose  smooth,  perfidious  smile 
Might  cheat  the  tempting  crocodile  in  guile. 
Thorns  be  their  pillow ;  agony  their  sleep ; 
Nor  e'en  the  mercy  given,  to  "  wake  and  weep  I" 
May  screaming  night-fiends,  hot  in  recreant  gore, 
Rive  their  strained  fibres  to  their  heart's  rank  core, 
Till  startled  Conscience  heap,  in  wild  dismay, 
Convulsive  curses  on  the  source  of  day  I 

But,  see,  what  form,  so  sprigged,  behooped,  and  sleek, 
With  modern  head-dress  on  a  block  antique, 
Trips  through  the  croud,  and,  ogling  all  who  pass, 
Stares  most  demurely,  through  an  Op'ra  glass  1 
Sunk  in  the  wane,  she  courts  the  gay  parade ; 
A  belle  of  Plato's  age,  a  sweet  old  maid. 
While  lived  her  beauty,  (for  *jAs  now  a  ghost !) 
The  fair  one's  envy,  and  the  fopling's  toast ; 
What  slaughtered  hearts  by  her  fierce  eye-beams  fell. 
Let  Fiction's  brokers,  bards  and  tombstones,  tell. 
Fled  are  the  charms,  which  graced  that  ivory  brow  ; 
Where  smiled  a  dimple,  gapes  a  wrinkle  now : 
And  e'en  that  pouting  lip,  where  whilom  grew 
The  mellow  peach-down,  and  the  ruby's  hue, 
No  more  can  trance  the  ear  with  sweeter  sounds, 
Than  fairies  warble  on  enchanted  grounds  ! 

Now,  hapless  nymph,  she  wakes  from  dreams  of  bliss, 
The  knee  adoring,  and  the  stolen  kiss ; 
And  for  the  Persian  worship  of  the  eye, 
Meets  the  arch  simper  of  the  mimick  sigh. 
Still  she  resolves  her  empire  to  regain, 
And  rifles  Fashion,  tortures  Art,  to  reign. 


THE  RULTNG  PASSION.  183 

Oft  at  the  ball,  she  flaunts,  in  flowers  so  gay, 
She  seems  December  in  the  robes  of  May  ; 
And  oft,  more  coy,  coquettes  behind  her  fan 
That  odious  monster — dear,  sweet  creature,  man  J 

At  length,  grown  ugly,  past  the  aid  of  gold  j 
And,  spite  of  essences  and  rouge,  grown  old ; 
Each  softer  passion  yields  to  Pride's  controul, 
And  sour  Misanthropy  usurps  her  soul. 
Now,  first  on  man,  the  spleeny  gossip  rails, 
Arraigns  his  justice,  and  his  taste  assails  ; 
Till,  as  her  tea's  exhausted  fragrance  flies, 
Her  wit  evaporates,  her  scandal  dies. 
Yet  still  invidious  of  the  art  to  bless, 
She  blasts  the  joys,  she  lingers  to  possess ; 
And,  while  on  Hymen'^  bridal  rites  she  sneers, 
Her  pillow  trickles  with  repentant  tears. 
While  thus,  to  all  her  sex's  pleasures  dead, 
She  vents  her  rage  on  Adam's  guilty  head, 
Who  rather  chose,  than  lose  his  rib  for  life, 
To  have  the  crooked  member  made  a  wife  ; 
From  waking  woe  to  visioned  bliss  she  flies, 
And  dreams  of  raptures,  which  her  fate  denies. 
The  tender  flame,  which  warmed  her  youthful  mind, 
By  affectation's  mawkish  rules  confined, 
Though  quenched  its  heat,  illumes  with  many  a  ray. 
The  tedious  evening  of  her  fading  day  ; 
And  though  unknown,  unnoticed,  and  unblest, 
Still  suns  the  impassive  winter  of  her  breast. 

Next  comes  the  miser,  palsied,  jealous,  lean, 
He  looks  the  very  skeleton  of  Spleen  ! 


184  THE  RULING  PASSION. 

'Mid  forests  drear,  he  haunts,  in  spectred  gloom, 
Some  desert  abbey,  or  some  druid's  tomb  ; 
Where,  hersed  in  earth,  his  occult  riches  lay, 
Fleeced  from  the  world,  and  buried  from  the  day. 
With  crutch  in  hand,  he  points  his  mineral  rod, 
Limps  to  the  spot,  and  turns  the  well-known  sod  ; 
While  there,  involved  in  night,  he  counts  his  store, 
By  the  soft  tinklings  of  the  golden  ore  ; 
He  shakes  with  terror,  lest  the  moon  should  spy, 
And  the  breeze  whisper,  where  his  treasures  lie. 

This  wretch,  who,  dying,  would  not  take  one  pill, 
If  living,  he  must  pay  a  doctor's  bill, 
Still  clings  to  life,  of  every  joy  bereft ; 
His  god  is  gold,  and  his  religion  theft  I 
And,  as  of  yore,  when  modern  vice  was  strange, 
Could  leathern  money  current  pass  on  'change, 
His  reptile  soul,  whose  reasoning  powers  are  pent 
Within  the  logick  bounds  of  cent  per  cent, 
Would  sooner  coin  his  ears,  than  stocks  should  fall, 
And  cheat  the  pillory,  than  not  cheat  at  all  1 

To  fame  unknown,  to  happier  fortune  born, 
The  blithe  Savoyard  hails  the  peep  of  morn ; 
And  while  the  fluid  gold  his  eye  surveys, 
The  hoary  Glaciers  fling  their  diamond  blaze ; 
Geneva's  broad  lake  rushes  from  its  shores, 
Arvc  gently  murmurs,  and  the  rough  Rhone  roars. 
'Mid  the  cleft  Alps,  his  cabin  peers  from  high, 
Hangs  o'er  the  clouds,  and  perches  on  the  sky. 
O'er  fields  of  ice,  across  the  headlong  flood, 
From  cliff  to  cliff  he  bounds  in  fearless  mood. 


THE  RULING  PASSION.  185 

While,  far  beneath,  a  night  of  tempest  lies, 
Deep  thunder  mutters,  harmless  lightening  flies  ; 
While,  far  above,  from  battlements  of  snow, 
Loud  torrents  tumble  on  the  world  below ; 
On  rustick  reed  he  wakes  a  merrier  tune, 
Than  the  lark  warbles  on  the  "Ides  of  June." 
Far  off,  let  Glory's  clarion  shrilly  swell ; 
He  loves  the  musick  of  his  pipe  as  well. 
Let  shouting  millions  crown  the  hero's  head, 
And  Pride  her  tesselated  pavement  tread ; 
More  happy  far,  this  denizen  of  air 
Enjoys  what  Nature  condescends  to  spare  : 
His  days  are  jocund,  undisturbed  his  nights ; 
His  spouse  contents  him,  and  his  mule  delights  ! 

All  hail,  sweet  Poesy  !  transcendent  maid ! 
To  whom  my  fond  youth's  earliest  vows  were  paid ; 
Who,  dressed  in  sapphire  robes,  with  eye  of  fire, 
Didst  first  my  unambitious  rhyme  inspire  ; 
Lured  by  whose  charms,  I  left,  in  passioned  hope, 
My  Watts's  Logick  for  the  page  of  Pope  ; 
If  e'er  regardful  of  thy  wildered  sons, 
For  whom  so  gingerly  Life's  current  runs ; 
Who,  like  the  slaves,  beneath  the  iron  sway 
Of  cursed  Mezentius  lingering,  loath  the  day, 
Doomed,  horrid  Fate  !  the  living  Muse  to  see, 
Bound  to  the  mouldering  corpse  of  Penury  ; 
Descend,  like  Jove,  suffused  in  golden  shower, 
And  on  our  garret-roofs  the  rain  drops  pour ! 
But  if  the  current  of  Castalia's  waves 
No  Wicklow  mine,  no  Georgian  acre,  laves ; 
24 


186  THE  RULING  PASSION 

If  still  bleak  Want  must  chill  thy  votaries'  fire — 
Their  taste  extinguish,  and  take  back  thy  lyre. 

Where  you  send  genius,  send  a  fortune  too ; 
Dunces  by  instinct  thrive,  as  oysters  woo  1 
For  ne'er  were  veins  of  ore  by  chymist  found, 
Except,  like  Hebrew  roots,  in  barren  ground  ! 

Each  scribbling  wight,  who  pens  a  birth-day  card, 
Was  born,  as  grannams  say,  to  be  a  bard ! 
Which  is,  in  prose,  if  rightly  understood, 
To  chum  with  spiders,  and  catch  flies  for  food. 

In  Youth's  gay  flush,  when  first  the  sportive  Muse 
Each  bright  ephemera  of  the  brain  pursues ; 
Ere  sobered  Fancy,  touched  by  Reason's  ray, 
Sees  all  her  frost-work  castles  melt  away ; 
Were,  then,  the  enthusiast  bard,  like  Moses,  led 
To  Pisgah's  top,  and  life  in  vision  spread ; 
There,  while  he  blessed  the  promised  land,  were  told, 
The  Canaan,  he  must  ne'er  possess,  was  gold ; 
How  many  minstrels  of  the  classick  lay 
Had  left  the  Appian,  for  the  Indian  way  ! 
How  few  would  lumber,  negligent  of  pelf, 
The  Printer's  garret,  or  the  Grocer's  shelf! 

Fame,  that  bright  phantom,  flitting,  vain,  and  coy, 
Is  all  the  meed,  which  poets  e'er  enjoy  ; 
Nor  e'en  her  fickle,  short  embrace  possess, 
'Till  all  her  charms  have  lost  the  power  to  bless, 


THE  RULING  PASSION.  18f 

Heroes  and  bards,  who  nobler  flights  have  won, 
Than  Cesar's  eagles,  or  the  Mantuan  swan, 
From  eldest  era,  share  the  common  doom  j 
The  sun  of  Glory  shines  but  on  the  tomb. 
Firm,  as  the  Mede,  the  stern  decree  subdues 
The  brightest  pageant  of  the  proudest  Muse. 
Man's  noblest  powers  could  ne'er  the  law  revoke, 
Though  Handel  harmonized  what  Chatham  spoke  ; 
Though  tuneful  Morton's  magick  genius  graced 
The  Hyblean  melody  of  Merry's  taste  ! 

Time,  the  stern  censor,  talisman  of  fame, 
With  rigid  justice,  portions  praise  and  shame  : 
And,  while  his  laurels,  reared  where  Genius  grew, 
'Mid  wide  Oblivion's  lava  bloom  anew  ; 
Oft  will  his  chymick  fire,  in  distant  age, 
Elicit  spots,  unseen  on  ancient  page. 

So  the  famed  sage,  who  plunged  in  Etna's  flame, 
'Mid  pagan  deities  enshrined  his  name ; 
'Till  from  the  iliack  mountain's  crater  thrown, 
The  Martyr's  sandal  cost  the  God  his  crown. 

So  too  Italia's  victor  paused,  of  late, 
While  the  red  war  beleagured  Mantua's  gatej 
And  bade  his  myrmidons  the  village  spare, 
Where  Virgil  first  inhaled  his  natal  air. 

While  thus  of  chequered  life  our  motley  lay 
Has  sketched  a  various,  though  a  crude  survey, 
Say,  shall  Columbia's  sons  the  theme  prolong  ? 
Their  "  Ruling  Passion"  claims  our  noblest  song. 


188  THE  RULING  PASSION. 

Theirs  is  the  pride,  bequeathed  by  glorious  sires, 
To  guard  their  Lares,  and  protect  their  fires ; 
To  rear  a  race,  enlightened,  brave  and  free, 
Heirs  of  the  soil,  and  tenants  of  the  sea  ; 
Whose  breasts  the  Union  shield,  its  laws  revere, 
As  country  sacred,  and  as  freedom  dear. 
\ 

Long  as  our  hardy  yeomanry  command 
The  rich  fee-simple  of  their  native  land ; 
While,  mid  the  labours  of  the  ripening  plain, 
They  form  the  phalanx,  and  the  courser  train  ; 
While,  in  our  martial  school,  are  chiefs  enrolled, 
As  Lincoln  prudent,  and  as  Putnam  bold ; 
While,  Catiline  expelled,  our  senate  prize 
Hearts,  just  as  Russell's  ;  heads,  as  Bowdoin's,  wise ; 
While  guides  our  realm  a  patriot  sage,  who  first, 
When  Power's  volcano  o'er  our  nation  burst, 
Unawed,  like  Pliny,  saw  the  flame  aspire, 
And  cities  sink  in  cataracts  of  fire  ; 
Undaunted  heard  the  rocking  of  the  spheres* 
While  all  Vesuvius  thundered  in  his  ears  : 
No  longer  dread  Columbia's  gallant  host, 
The  fierce  invader,  lowering  on  their  coast ; 
Nor  wiles  of  traitors,  nor  Corruption's  power  ; 
Nor  Blount's  conspiracy,  nor  Randolph's  "  flour  !" 

Of  late,  in  Gorgon's  hall,  from  Anarch's  tub, 
What  Rhetorick  graced  the  orgies  of  the  Club  ? 
But  now,  an  injured  people,  wiser  grown, 
Taught  dear  Experience,  by  the  wrongs  they've  known  :, 
This  maxim  hold,  which  much  fine  spouting  saves, 
JEj?-clusive  patriots  are  cow-elusive  knaves  ! 


THE  RULING  PASSION.  189 

Stern  power  of  justice,  whose  uplifted  hand 
Would  sweep  from  earth  Sedition's  wayward  band  ; 
Scourged  by  their  crimes,  redeem  the  scattered  host, 
Nor  let  the  remnant  of  her  tribe  be  lost ; 
With  arm  relenting,  to  their  morbid  gaze, 
The  mystick  serpent  of  thy  mercy  raise  : 
The  sins  of  Faction,  now  deceased,  forgive, 
While  her  repenting  sons  look  up  and  live  i 

From  foreign  feud,  and  civil  discord  free, 
As  is  Columbia,  may  she  ever  be  ! 
May  Europe's  storms  ne'er  damp  the  generous  flame, 
Which  warms  each  bosom  for  his  country's  fame  ! 
Long  roll  between  our  shores  the  Atlantick  tide  ; 
Wide  as  our  hemispheres,  our  laws  divide  ! 
And  should  some  earthquake,  with  more  powerful  vent, 
Than  that,  which  Dover's  cliffs  from  Calais  rent, 
With  prisoned  force  insurging  Neptune's  reign, 
Convulse  the  deep  foundations  of  the  main, 
Till  both  the  continents,  in  Nature's  fright, 
"Cleft  from  their  bases,  totter  to  unite  ; 
May  Fate  the  closing  empires  intervene, 
And  raise,  when  Ocean  sinks,  an  Alps  between  ! 

In  realms,  where  Law  and  Liberty  unite, 
In  the  broad  charter  of  co-equal  right, 
Where  publick  Will  invests  the  civil  sway, 
Where  those,  who  govern,  must  in  turn  obey  ; 
From  Party's  chrysalis,  unseen  to  rise, 
The  buzzing  beetle  of  Ambition  flies. 
What  time,  those  fiends  accursed  no  longer  draw 
The  People's  sanction  from  the  People's  law ; 


19O  THE  RULING  PASSION. 

What  time,  the  choral  hymn  of  Union  flows. 
And  Concord's  temple  hears  a  nation's  vows ; 
When  every  sect  supports,  with  patriot  zeal, 
One  universal  creed,  the  publick  weal  : 
Then,  blest  Columbia,  shall  thy  spotless  fame 
Shine,  like  the  vestal  lamp's  perennial  flame  I 
Then  shall  thy  car  disperse,  thy  Trident  awe 
The  hovering  hordes  of  predatory  war  ; 
Thy  neutral  flag  protect  its  wealthy  sail, 
Freight  every  tide,  and  charter  every  gale  ; 
The  deep  Patowmac's  sea-like  breast  sustain 
The  keels  of  fleets,  the  commerce  of  the  main  : 
And,  while  their  giant  shades  project  from  high, 
The  walls  of  Washington  shall  lift  the  sky  ; 
And  see,  expanding  round  thy  Civick  Dome, 
The  bay  of  Naples,  and  the  towers  of  Rome  ! 

When  Asian  kingdoms,  whelmed  in  moral  guilt, 
By  Terror  governed,  as  on  rapine  built, 
Like  lost  Palmyra,  only  shall  be  known, 
By  sculptured  fragments  of  Colossal  stone; 
When  thou,  as  musing  Tully  paused  and  wept, 
Where  Syracuse  and  Archimedes  slept, 
With  solemn  Sorrow  and  with  pilgrim  feet, 
Shalt  trace  the  shades  of  Vernon's  still  retreat, 
And,  as  the  votive  marble's  faithful  page 
Inscribes  to  Fame  the  Saviour  of  his  age, 
Shalt  dew  the  knee-worn  turf,  with  streaming  eyes. 
Where,  urned  in  dust,  the  mighty  Fabius  lies : 
Thy  realm,  maturing  'mid  the  feathery  flight 
Of  ages,  trackless  as  the  plumes  of  light, 


THE  RULING  PASSION.  191 


In  vigorous  youth,  the  vital  power  shall  prove 
Of  private  Virtue  ripening  publick  Love  ; 
Which,  ^Egis-like,  shall  more  thy  foes  appal, 
Than  China's  fence,  or  Albion's  floating  wall ; 
Shall  bid  thy  empire  flourish  and  endure, 
Thy  people  happy,  and  thy  laws  secure  ; 
Thy  Phoenix-Glory  renovate  its  prime, 
Extend  with  Ocean,  and  exist  with  Time. 


NOTES  TO  THE  RULING  PASSION. 


Page  177,  line  2. 
That  little  -world,  that  greater  -wonder,  man. 

So  intimate  is  the  analogy  between  the  physical  and  moral  king, 
doms,  that  man  is  not  unfrcquently  styled  a  microcosm.  To  define 
every  feature  of  the  resemblance,  would  fill  volumes  ;  and  were  the 
natural  history  of  this  "Biped  without  feathers,'  in  all  his 
affections,  seasons,  and  properties,  written  with  the  greatest  per- 
spicacity, it  would  demand  more  talent  and  labour,  than  the  phi- 
losophical or  botanical  researches  of  a  Linnaeus,  or  a  Darwin. 

Page  177,  line  14. 
Than  Jove,  in  Ovid's  "Green-Boom"  of  the  gods  ! 

THERE  is  a  Magazine  of  theatrical  biography  published  annually 
in  London,  called  "The  Green-Room  ;"  which  is  not  only  replete 
with  sketches  of  the  dramatick  characters  of  the  actors  and  actresses, 
but  is  sometimes  enlivened  with  the  tender  anecdote  of  private 
amour. 

Ovid,  who  "  took  a  peep  behind  the  curtain"  of  Olympus,  has 
Pasquin-zzerf  the  intrigues  of  Jupiter's  court  in  the  same  figurative, 
style  of  elegant  "  tete  a  tete  !" 

Page  178,  line  16. 

.i  motley  Pantheon  of  birds  and  beasts  .' 

THE  Egyptian  mytholegy  was  so  heterogeneous  and  absurd,  that, 
not  confined  to  the  extensive  regions  of  animated  nature,  that  hiero- 
glypical  nation  stupidity  descended  to  the  vegetable  world,  to  fill  the 


NOTES  TO  THE  RULING  PASSION.  193 

niches  of  their  temples.    "  In  Egypt,"  says  a  learned  writer,  "it  was 
more  difficult  to  find  a  man,  than  a  God." 

Page  180,  line  2. 
•  overflowing,  yet  not  full. 

A  PARODY  on  part  of  the  last  line  in  the  following  passage  of  Den- 
ham's  "Cooper's  Hill." 

Though  deep,  yet  clear ;  though  gentle,  yet  not  dull ; 
Strong,  without  rage ;  without  o'erflowing,  full." 

Page  180,  lines  11-12. 
Profound  in  trifles,  he  can  tell,  how  short 
Were  JEsop's  legs,  how  large  was  Tully's  wart  ! 
JEsop,  the  Phrygian,  the  most  celebrated  fabulist  of  antiquity, 
was  not  only  disfigured  in  his  legs,  but  was  deformed  in  almost  every 
other  part  of  his  body. 

Marcus  Tullius  Cicero,  the  father  of  Roman  oratory,  is  said 
to  have  received  his  last  appellation,  from  an  uncommon  excrescence 
on  his  cheek,  resembling  a  Cicer,  or  vetch. 

Page  185,  line  26. 

JSound  to  the  mouldering  corpse  of  Penury  f 

Mezentius,  a  prince  of  the  Tyrrhenes,  a  contemner  of  the  gods,, 
was  the  inventor  of  the  savage  punishment  of  binding  the  devoted 
offender  to  the  putrescent  body  of  some  victim,  sacrificed  to  his  bar- 
barity. 

Page  186,  line  5—6. 

For  ne'er  were  veins  of  ore  by  chymist  found, 
Except,  like  Hebrew  roots,  in  barren  ground. 

THOSE  spots  of  earth,  which  are  impregnated  by  mineral  strata, 
are  generally  distinguished  by  the  desolate  aridity  of  their  surface, 
which  is  totally  insufficient  to  support  the  vegetation  even  of  gram-* 
inous  productions. 
25 


194  NOTES  TO  THE  RULING  PASSION. 

Page  187,  9—10. 

Though  tuneful  Morton's  magick  genius  graced 
The  Hyblean  melody  ofMerrifs  taste  ! 

ROBERT  MERRY,  esquire,  the  only  pupil  in  the  school  of  Collins, 
who  possesses  the  genius  of  his  master,  is  the  author  of  those  ele- 
gant poems  in  the  British  Album,  signed  Delia  Crusca,  of  Paulina — 
the  Pains  of  Memory,  and  several  dramatick  pieces.  In  the  summer 
of  1791,  he  married  Miss  Brunton,  a  celebrated  actress  in  Covent- 
Garden  theatre,  and  no  less  admired  for  her  pre-eminent  talents  as  a 
daughter  of  the  Buskin,  than  esteemed  as  a  woman  of  unblemished 
principles,  and  polished  accomplishments. 

Mrs.  Morton,  of  Dorchester,  the  reputed  authoress  of  an  heroicfc 
Poem,  of  much  merit,  entitled  "  Beacon-Hill,"  may,  without  hesita- 
tion, be  announced  the  American  Sappho. 

Page  187,  line  14. 

'Mid  -wide  Oblivion's  lava  bloom  anew. 

IT  is  a  fact,  that,  in  countries,  subject  to  volcanick  inundation, 
the  subsiding  lava  super-induces  a  fertility  of  soil,  not  to  be  equalled 
by  the  most  exuberant  luxuriance  of  the  tropical  climates. 

Page  187,  line  20. 

The  Martyrs'  sandal  cost  the  God  his  crown. 

EMPEDOCLES  is  recorded,  in  fabulous  history,  to  have  leaped 
into  the  flames  of  JEtna,  to  obtain,  in  the  dark  ages  of  paganism,  an 
apotheosis  for  his  memory;  but  the  brass  slipper,  which  he  had  worn 
during  his  hermitage  in  a  cave  of  the  mountain,  was  soon  after 
thrown  up  by  the  volcano,  and  exposed  the  impostor  to  the  world. 

Page  187,  line  24. 

Where  Virgil  first  inhaled  his  natal  air. 

THIS  event,  so  honourary  to  the  character  of  Buonaparte,  toofc 
place  soon  after  the  capitulation  of  Mantua.  The  village,  which 
boasts  the  nativity  of  this  immortal  bard,  lies  in  the  suburbs  of  that 
eity. 


NOTES  TO  THE  RULING  PASSION. 

Page  188,  line  20. 

While  all  Vesuvius  thundered  in  his  ears. 

THE  first  eruption  of  this  mountain  happened  in  the  79th  year  of 
the  Christian  era.  Pliny,  the  elder,  a  man  no  less  renowned  for  foren- 
sick  than  military  powers,  was  at  that  time  commander  of  a  fleet  in 
the  bay  of  Misenum.  Un intimidated  by  the  terrible  phenomenon, 
he  hastened  with  his  ships  to  the  relief  of  the  nobility  and  peasants, 
whose  villas  and  farms  had  been  ingulphed  in  the  flames.  In  this 
benevolent  and  heroick  attempt,  he  died  by  suffocation.  This  erup- 
tion destroyed  the  cities  of  Herculaneum,  and  Pompeii.  To  support 
the  poetick  allusion,  it  may  be  necessary  to  add,  that  the  burning1  of 
the  towns  of  Charlestown  and  Fairfield,  in  the  revolutionary  war, 
affords  but  too  prominent  a  trait  in  the  similitude. 


DEDICATORY   ADDRESS  ; 


SPOKEN  BY  MR.  HODGKINSON,  OCTOBER  29,  1798,  AT  THE 


OPENING    OF    THE 


NEW    FEDERAL    THEATRE, 


IN  BOSTON. 


Flammis  refectum,  minis  virescit. 


DEDICATORY    ADDRESS, 

SPOKEN  AT  THE  OPENING  OF  THE  BOSTON  THEATRE, 

ONCE  more,  kind  patrons  of  the  Thespian  art, 
Friends  to  the  science  of  the  human  heart, 
Behold  the  temple  of  the  Muse  aspire, 
A  Phoenix  stage,  which  propagates  by  fire ! 

Each  fault  rescinded,  and  each  grace  renewed, 
By  magick  reared,  and  with  enchantment  viewed, 
Our  dome,  new  mantled,  'mid  its  ravaged  wall, 
Stands,  like  Antaeus,  stronger  by  its  fall ; 
And  like  Creusa's  ghost,  in  Trojan  strife, 
Its  spectre  rises  larger  than  its  life  ! 

Ye,  who  have  oft  with  pleased  observance  traced 
Each  latent  charm  our  mimick  life  has  graced ; 
Whose  hearts  yet  ache,  when  Retrospection  views 
The  woes  and  wanderings  of  the  scenick  Muse ; 
Since  from  the  cradle  of  her  young  renown, 
Her  infant  warblings  lured  the  listening  town, 
To  that  dark  era,  when  one  luckless  hour 
Her  empire  ravaged,  and  dethroned  her  power, 


200  DEDICATORY  ADDRESS. 

Till  proudly  towering  o'er  the  Gothick  waste" 
Through  chaos  smiled  this  paradise  of  taste. 
The  mystick  maids,  who  here  unite  their  reign, 
Whom  bards  and  actors  oft  implore  in  vain, 
With  Truth's  warm  rapture,  bid  you  welcome  all, 
Gents,  belles,  and  godships,  to  their  fairy  hall ; 
Where  Shakespeare's  spirit,  who  delights  to  flit 
O'er  criticks*  noses,  snoring  in  the  pit, 
Like  Hamlet's  father,  armed  from  casque  to  sandals^ 
Shall  "  visit  oft  the  glimpses  of"  our  candles ! 

If  blest  by  those  kind  smiles,  whose  beams  impart 
Pulse  to  the  brain,  and  vigour  to  the  heart, 
The  Drama  now  her  languid  powers  will  rear, 
The  laugh  awaken,  and  exhale  the  tear ; 
Correct,  yet  animate,  she  aims  to  join 
Salvator's  clouds  with  Hogarth's  waving  line, 
And  hopes,  aspiring,  by  your  favour  warmed, 
Again  to  charm  you,  as  she  once  has  charmed. 

Nor  need  her  friends,  with  Fear's  retorted  glance^ 
Recall  the  horrors  of  her  late  mischance, 
When  wrapt  in  bursting  flames,  and  awful  gloom* 
She  saw  her  temple  mouldering  to  her  tomb  ! 
No  more  shall  Nero's  .ravished  eye  behold 
The  usurping  element  these  walls  enfold  ; 
Nor  shall  one  tear  from  houseless  Genius  start, 
To  glut  the  savage  pleasure  of  his  heart ! 

To  guard  our  fane,  Apollo  tuned  his  lyre, 
And  leagued  the  gods  of  water  and  of  fire  ; 


DEDICATORY  ADDRESS.  201 

Cramped  Vulcan  deigned  his  Cyclop  den  to  quit, 
And  clothe  in  Panoply  the  Dome  of  Wit ; 
While  Neptune  gave  an  urn,  of  such  vast  use, 
JTis  always  filling,  like  the  widow's  cruse ! 

Now,  (heaven  forbid !)  by  hidden  ways  and  means? 
Should  whelming  fire  again  invest  our  scenes, 
Lest  on  your  heads  the  blazing  roof  should  fall, 
We'll  spring  the  Aqueduct,  and  drown  you  all  1 
"  I'll  burn  first,  smoke  me,"  cries  a  spruce  young  bobby, 
"  Splash  me,  I  shan't  be  fit  to  walk  the  lobby  ! 
"  If  roast  or  drown's  the  word,  your  fire  commence,  Sir, 
"  That  clownish  water  always  spots  my  spencer  !" 

How  wise  men  differ  !  Water,  some  would  think, 
Would  wash  away  the  stain  of  taylor's  ink  I 
But  don't  swoon,  beaus  !  another  mode  we'll  try, 
To  save  our  lives,  and  keep  your  ruffles  dry. 
From  fire  and  water  your  escape  is  certain ; 
Your  shield  of  safety  is— our  Iron  Curtain  ! 

Ladies  and  gentlemen,  my  duty  claims 
To  tell  you,  that  our  Stage  is  all  in  flames  ! 
The  fire,  though  strange  to  you  the  sight  might  be, 
First  caught  Mont  Blanc,  and  then  burnt  up  the  sea ; 
The  actors,  like  Octavian  from  his  cave, 
Rush  from  the  Green-room,  not  to  help,  but  rave ; 
W^hile  each  one  scampers  in  the  other's  way, 
Like  fops'  umbrellas  in  a  rainy  day  ! 
But  let  no  belle  in  sweet  hystericks  fall ; 
Our  Iron  Curtain  will  protect  you  all ! 
26 


202  DEDICATORY  ADDRESS. 

In  elder  time,  when  first  the  Stage  was  re 
'Twas  nursed  by  patriots,  and  by  traitors  feared ; 
Its  glowing  scenes,  the  fire  of  States  supplied, 
For  Valour's  praises  waked  Ambition's  pride  j 
And  still  the  Drama,  with  corrected  zeal, 
Exists  an  engine  of  the  publick  weal. 
Smeared  with  sedition,  should  the  hand  profane 
Of  plotting  knaves,  our  nation's  Chief  arraign, 
The  indignant  Stage  would  glory  in  the  task, 
From  lurking  demagogues  to  strip  the  mask ; 
Drag  the  dark  traitor  into  publick  shame, 
And  nail  him  to  the  pillory  of  Fame  ! 
In  such  a  cause,  the  powers  of  verse  would  rise, 
'Till  seared,  and  headless,  Faction's  hydra  dies  ; 
And  the  stern  eagle  would  suspend  his  wing, 
To  listen,  while  the  federal  Muses  sing. 

No  scite  of  clime  can  long  protect  a  race, 
Whose  souls  are  reckless  of  their  realm's  disgrace. 
Bid  stormy  oceans  roll,  and  mountains  rise, 
Faction  will  cross  them,  and  pollute  your  skies ; 
Her  cursed  miasma  speeds  its  fatal  way, 
The  gale  impregnates,  and  attaints  the  day  ; 
Her  subtle  root  with  equal  vigour  strikes, 
In  Gallia's  hotbed,  or  in  Holland's  dykes. 
On  coldest  shores,  her  rank  luxuriance  grows, 
As  Hecla  flames  'mid  Thule's  endless  snows. 

Where  laws  are  fashioned  by  the  publick  will, 
The  helm  of  state  demands  a  master's  skill. 
The  social  compact  is  a  bond  so  weak, 
The  feuds  of  party  can  the  cement  break  ; 


DEDICATORY  ADDRESS.  203 

When  cracked,  like  Rupert's  drop,  it  mocks  controul, 
Snap  but  the  point,  and  you  destroy  the  whole. 

In  such  mild  climes,  if  true  to  Freedom's  cause, 
The  people's  virtue  will  support  the  laws ; 
And  Publick  Spirit  crush,  with  arm  elate, 
The  fiend,  who  dares  "  to  clog  the  wheels  of  state." 

In  France,  whose  motley  breed  extremes  delight, 
Who  grin  like  monkeys,  or  like  tygers  fight, 
Autun's  meek  priest,  whose  conscience  knows  no  qualm, 
Except  the  cravings  of  an  itching  palm ; 
Who,  born  a  miser,  and  a  prelate  reared,  a 
His  flock  deserted,  when  their  fleece  was  sheared. 
The  ancient  patriots  from  their  niches  jostles, 
And  calls  French  pirates,  Liberty's  apostles  ! 
This,  though  the  bishop  spoke  it,  is  no  brag, 
For  he's  the  Judas,  and  still  bears  the  bag  I 

But,  thanks  to  heaven,  who  propped  our  wavering  state, 
And  saved  its  glory  from  Venetian  fate, 
This  silk-worm  knave  in  vain  has  wound  his  maze, 
In  vain  his  basilisk  eye  has  fixed  its  gaze  ; 
In  vain  the  holy  pimp  his  toils  has  spread, 
And  smoothed  Delilah's  lap  for  Sampson's  head. 

Led  to  the  altar,  by  his  wiles  ensnared, 
Columbia  stood,  for  sacrifice  prepared ; 
High  flamed  the  pyre  ;  her  struggling  arms  were  bound ; 
The  steel  was  lifted  for  the  fatal  wound ; 
When,  like  the  angel,  who,  by  God's  command, 
The  filial  off 'ring  savecj  from  Abraham's  hand, 


204  DEDICATORY  ADDRESS. 

Our  guardian,  Adams,  robed  in  light  divine, 

Burst  through  the  clouds  which  veiled  the  impious  shrine  ; 

The  dagger  seized,  the  felon  chords  released, 

And  snatched  the  victim  from  the  apostate  priest ! 

France  stood  aghast ;  the  palsying  wonder  ran ; 
The  five  kings  trembled  in  their  dark  divan ! 
Compelled  new  schemes  of  vengeance  to  devise, 
They  changed  the  lion's  for  the  hysena's  cries. 
No  more  their  menanced  wrath  assailed  our  ears ; 
In  sooth  they  seemed,  "  like  Niobe,  all  tears  I" 

As  some  old  Bawd,  who  all  her  life  hath  been 
A  fungus,  sprouting  from  the  filth  of  sin.; 
Whose  dry  trunk  seasons  in  the  frost  of  Vice, 
Like  radish,  saved  from  rotting  by  the  ice ; 
When  threatening  bailiffs  first  her  conscience  awe, 
Not  with  the  fear  of  shame,  but  fear  of  law, 
Sets  out  at  sixty,  in  contrition's  search, 
Rubs  garlick  on  her  eyes,  and  goes  to  church ! 

Thus  Europe's  courtezan,  well  versed  in  wiles, 
Whose  kisses  poison,  while  the  harlot  smiles, 
With  pious  sorrow  hears  our  cannon  roar, 
And  swears  devoutly,  that  she'll  sin  no  more  ! 

Our  rescued  nation  long  will  bless  the  day, 
Which  hailed  their  Adams  cloathed  in  civick  sway ; 
Which  saw  again  our  eagle's  pinions  reared, 
His  olive  courted,  and  his  arrows  feared. 


DEDICATORY  ADDRESS.  205 

Long  shall  the  fame  of  our  illustrious  Sage, 
The  peerless  statesman  of  a  peerless  age, 
With  quenchless  splendour  beam  through  many  a  clime, 
And  light  the  darkling  avenues  of  Time. 
His  deeds,  on  Glory's  marble  page  engraved, 
Shall  live  coeval  with  the  realm,  he  saved ; 
And  when,  in  Heaven  beloved,  as  honoured  here, 
He  shines  the  regent  of  some  brighter  sphere, 
Nations  shall  mark  the  epoch  of  his  birth, 
With  festal  gratitude,  and  sainted  mirth ; 
And  ages,  yet  unborn,  with  grateful  breast, 
Shall  rise,  and  call  the  shade  of  Adams  blest ! 


206  ADDRESS,  &c. 


ADDRESS, 


Delivered  on  the  occasion  of  Master  John  H.  Payne's  first  appearance   on 
the  Boston  Stage,  in  the  character  of  Young  Norval. 


A*  RIENDS  of  the  mimick  world !  our  scenes  this  night 
An  age  of  fame  has  sanctioned  to  delight  I 
Oft  to  their  aid  the  Fabling  Muse  has  come, 
And  called  up  Roscius,  from  his  shroud  at  Rome  ! 
We,  loath  to  wake  again  the  classick  ghost, 
A  native  Roscius  on  our  boards  can  boast. 

A  shepherd  boy,  in  Celtick  fiction  drest, 
The  fire  of  Nature  struggling  in  his  breast, 
Forsook  his  cottage  to  atchieve  a  name, 
And  found  a  mother,  where  he  sought  for  Fame  i 
Proud  from  her  hand,  the  laurel  he  receives, 
While  tears  of  rapture  glitter  on  its  leaves  ! 

This  night,  a  brother  champion  will  advance, 
In  Thespian  tournament  to  break  the  lance  ! 
He  throws  no  gauntlet  at  a  critick  age, 
Nor  dares  with  wits  a  rude  encounter  wage ; 
Yet,  like  the  Norval  of  a  sterner  clime, 
He  hopes  a  boy's  ambition  is  no  crime  ! 
Like  him,  he  dares  aspire  to  earn  a  name, 
Your  heart,  his  mother,  your  applause,  his  fame  ! 


ADDRESS,  &e.  20  7 

Blest,  if  your  eyes  with  beams  of  Pleasure  burn ; 
And  humbly  proud,  if  they  correct,  to  learn  J 

Thus,  would  he  preface,  with  ingenuous  tongue, 
That  manly  worth,  which  should  not  pass  unsung. 
Though  o'er  his  head  Life's  spring  has  scarcely  smiled, 
A  classick  actor  cannot  be  a  child  I 
The  rays  of  Fancy  youthful  bosoms  warm, 
Learning  and  Life,  maturer  minds  inform ! 
Yet  here,  in  manhood's  dawn,  he  dares  to  raise 
The  torch  of  Science,  to  the  shrine  of  Praise  ! 
By  Genius  fired,  he  yields  to  Passion's  glow ; 
Nor  rules  by  verse  the  prosody  of  woe  ! 
The  tear  of  feeling  Art  can  ne'er  supply ; 
The  heart  must  moisten,  e'er  it  melts  the  eye  ! 

His  caves  of  voice  no  measured  thunders  roll ; 
He  speaks  from  nature,  and  he  looks  from  soul ! 
In  all  the  Drama's  technick  lore  untaught, 
He  reads  by  sentiment,  and  moves  by  thought. 
When  love-lorn  Pathos  pours  its  melting  moan, 
Truth's  fibre  trembles  at  his  touching  tone  ! 
When  o'er  the  scene  contending  Passions  fly, 
He  groups  the  shadows  with  a  Poet's  eye. 
And  when  his  brows  the  hero's  plumes 'erect, 
"  The  blood  of  Douglas,  can  itself  protect ;" 
Through  Fiction's  range,  he  gives,  with  skill  profound, 
Genius  to  Grace,  and  eloquence  to  Sound  ! 
The  tragick  code  of  artificial  speech 
Taste  may  reject,  or  discipline  may  teach ; 
But,  as  the  eye  the  trackless  ridge  explores, 
Genius  o'erleaps  the  cliff,  where  Labour  never  soars  ! 


208  ADDRESS,  &c. 

A  humble  weed  transplanted  from  the  waste, 
Formed  the  proud  chapiter  of  Grecian  taste. 
Chance  dropped  the  weight  its  yielding  foliage  twined, 
And  drooped,  with  graceful  negligence  inclined. 
Sculpture  a  model  saw,  to  Art  unknown, 
Copied  the  form,  and  turned  the  plant  to  stone  ! 
The  chiselled  weed  adorned  the  Temple's  head, 
And  gods  were  worshipped,  where  its  branches  spread  1 
If  in  our  Norval,  candid  judges  find 
Some  kindred  flower,  to  grace  the  stage  designed ; 
If,  to  the  pressure,  Fortune  has  imposed, 
You  owe  those  talents,  Art  had  ne'er  disclosed ; 
If,  like  the  graced  Acanthus  he  appear, 
Be  you  Callymachus,  be  Corinth  here  ! 


EPILOGUE,  &c.  209 

EPILOGUE 
TO  THE  SOLDIER'S  DAUGHTER. 

[Spoken  by  Mrs.  Stanley,  in  the  character  of  the  Widow  Cheerly.] 

JLJEFORE  the  fatal  knot  is  fairly  tied  ; 
Before  I  change  the  widow  for  the  bride  ; 
Once  more  at  this  tribunal  I  appear, 
A  Soldier's  Daughter  and  a  volunteer. 
Such  am  I  now,  though  not  by  martial  laws, 
I  volunteer  it,  in  my  sex's  cause. 
Ladies,  I  one  proposal  fain  would  make, 
And  trust  you'll  hear  it  for  your  country's  sake. 
While  glory  animates  each*  manly  ijerve, 
Shall  gentle  woman  from  the  contest  swerve  ? 
No! 

We'll  form  a  female  army— of  reserve  ; 
And  class  them  thus :  Young  romps,  are  pioneers  ; 
Widows,  sharp-shooters ;  wives,  are  fusileers ; 
Maids,  are  battalion,  that's— all  under  twenty  ; 
And  as  for  light  troops,  we  have  those  in  plenty ! 
Our  smart,  gay  milliners,  all  decked  with  feather, 
Are  corps  of  infantry  for  summer  weather  1 
Our  belles,  who,  clad  in  cap  and  pantaloons 
Shoot  as  they  fly,  shall  be  our  light  dragoons. 
Old  maids  are  spies  ;  still  fond  of  war's  alarms, 
They  love  the  camp,  although  they  don't  bear  arms  ! 
Flirts  are  our  van ;  for  they,  provoking  elves  ! 
Draw  on  a  battle  ;  but  ne'er  fight  themselves, 
27 


210  EPILOGUE  TO  THE 

Our  prudes  shall  sap  and  mine  ;  well  versed  to  feign, 
They  fear  no  danger,  though  in  ambush  ta'en  ; 
For  who'd  suspect  a  prude,  could  lay  a  train  ? 
Gossips,  who  talk  by  rote,  and  kill  by  prattle, 
Shall  serve  for  bulletins  to  every  battle. 
Vixens  the  trumpet  blow  ;  scolds  beat  the  drum ; 
When  thus  prepared,  what  enemy  dare  come  ? 
Those  eyes,  that  even  freemen  could  enslave, 
Will  light  a  race  of  vassals,  To  their  grave  ; 
So  shall  the  artillery  of  female  charms 
Repel  invaders,  without  force  of  arms, 

If  this  succeeds,  as  I  the  scheme  have  planned, 
I  hope,  at  least,  the  honour  of  command. 
Trained  on  this  field,  and  disciplined  by  you, 
I'm  doomed  to  pass  your  critical  review ; 
For  all  recruits  are,  by  the  law's  direction, 
Women,  or  soldiers,  subject  to  inspection. 
In  love,  or  arms,  which  claims  the  greater  skill, 
Eyes  that  can  rifle,  or  carbines  that  kill  ? 
Which  best  displays  the  tacticks  of  the  art, 
To  storm  a  city,  or  subdue  a  heart  ? 
Yet  one  distinction  woman's  fate  obtains  ; 
When  towns  capitulate  the  victor  reigns  ; 
The  vassal  prisoner  bows  him  to  the  stroke, 
And  owns  the  master,  that  imposed  the  yoke. 
But  woman,  vanquished,  still  pursues  the  strife, 
She  yields  her  freedom,  to  become  a  wife, 
And  thus  surrenders,  but  to  rule  for  life  ! 
A  Carthian  war  she  wages  with  her  eyes ; 
Routed,  she  triumphs,  and,  triumphant,  flies  ? 


SOLDIER'S  DAUGHTER.  211 

For  new  campaigns,  she  deigns,  to  be  outdone, 
And  grounds  her  arms  to  slaves,  her  eyes  have  won. 

Not  so  the  band,  who  till  Columbia's  soil, 
Disdaining  peril,  and  inured  to  toil, 
A  firm,  proud  phalanx,  whose  undaunted  hand 
A  bulwark  rears  to  guard  their  native  land ; 
And  teach  invading  foes,  that  host  to  fear, 
Which  boast  the  name  of  patriot  volunteer. 
What  say  ye  now  ?  If  you  approve  my  plans, 
Receive  your  general,  with  "  presented  fans  I" 

0 

Now,  brother  soldiers,  dare  I  sisters  join  ? 
If  you,  this  night,  your  efforts  should  combine, 
To  save  our  corps  from  anxious  Hope  and  Fear, 
And  send  out  Mercy  as  a  volunteer, 
To  whose  white  banner  should  the  criticks  flock, 
Our  rallying  numbers  might  sustain  the  shock ; 
The  sword  shall  drop,  then  cease  impending  slaughter, 
If  Mercy's  shield  protect — the  Soldier's  Daughter. 


212  VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS. 


The  following  lines  were  spoken  as  a  Valedictory  Address,  by  Miss  Fox, 
a  child  about  five  years  old,  at  her  benefit  in  May  1807. 


f  AREWELL,  a  long  farewell !  dear  patrons,  friends ! 

This  parting  scene  my  infant  bosom  rends, 

For  spite  of  all  my  joy  to  see  you  here, 

My  heart  will  t*o-ob,  and  gush  the  frequent  tear. 

In  you,  my  foster  parents  I  behold  ; 

Your  kindness  bade  my  tender  mind  unfold ; 

Warmed  by  your  smiles,  you  saw  me  sportive  run, 

A  little  insect,  fluttering  in  the  sun ; 

Urchin  I  am,  but  me  you've  always  loved, 

My  faults  you  pardoned,  and  my  tricks  approved ; 
My  heart  will  break  to  be  removed  from  you, 

And  oh  !  my  mother — she  has  loved  you  too. 

Full  well  you  knew  the  faults  of  childish  years ; 

The  bud  must  blossom,  e'er  the  fruit  appears ; 

And  oft,  by  smiling,  you  have  seemed  to  say, 

I'd  grow  a  woman  on  some  future  day. 

And  then,  some  beau  gallant  my  face  might  charm, 

"  Heaven  save  the  mark,"  these  eyes  may  do  some  harm* 

Oh  1  how  I've  longed,  that  I  might  older  grow, 

To  join  this  mimick  world  of  joy  and  woe  \ 

And  teach  some  future  scene,  with  graceful  ease, 

To  charm  like  Stanley,  or  like  Powell  please  ; 

But,  oh  I  those  fairy  prospects  now  are  o'er, 

Farewell !  perhaps  we  part  to  meet  no  more ; 


VALEDICTORY  ADDRESS.  213 

Pardon  a  child,  forgive  her  artless  tears, 

She  leaves  the  friends  she  loves,  esteems,  reveres  ; 

Whate'er  in  life  may  be  my  varied  lot, 

Boston,  dear  Boston,  ne'er  shall  be  forgot ; 

Nor  time  shall  bar,  nor  distance  interfere, 

My  heart  shall  still  return  to  visit  here ; 

And  if  Success  attend  my  riper  days, 

How  proud  I'll  be  to  have  deserved  your  praise. 

Farewell,  a  sad  farewell !  sires,  guardians,  friends  ! 
May  Heaven,  whose  bounty  all  our  blessings  sends, 
Pluck  from  Life's  path  the  thorn  that  would  molest, 
And  smooth  Death's  pillow,  as  you  sink  to  rest ! 
And  then  receive  you,  borne  on  white  winged  hours. 
Through  opening  clouds,  to  Joy's  eternal  bowers  I 


214  EPILOGUE  TO  THE 


EPILOGUE 
TO  THE  CLERGYMAN'S  DAUGHTER. 

GTAY,  as  the  belle,  who  lightens  down  the  ball, 
While  half,  who  gaze,  can  scarcely  move  at  all ; 
Pert,  as  the  elf,  who,  at  a  tensor's  shop, 
Pops  in  a  phantom,  and  pops  out  a  fop ; 
As  vain,  as  beauty,  and  as  fashion,  witty, 
A  tooth-pick  Epilogue  should  lounge  the  city  : 
And  prattle,  comme  il  faut,—~ with  nought  to  say, 
A  world  of  words— the  newest  kind  of  way  1 

Such  was  dame  Epilogue,  when  blithe  and  young, 
Of  every  belle  she  was  herself  the  tongue ; 
Then,  a  whole  peerage  would  a  play  engage, 
If  she  but  simpered,  "  All  the  world's  a  stage," 
But  now,  in  vain  she  sports  her  ancient  airs, 
For  all  the  "  men  and  women"  have  turned  "  players." 
Such  is  the  strife  among  the  motley  rout, 
They  strip  the  actors,  while  they  turn  them  out. 
From  Shakespeare's  wardrobe  each  a  fragment  snatches, 
And  bustles  through  his  part— in  "  shreds  and  patches  ;" 
All  loud  alike,  none  perfect  but  in  scraps, 
They  all  gesticulate,  but  no  one  claps. 
Puns  by  descent,  are  wit  by  common  law ; 
And  every  foundling  bon  mot  knows  papa ! 


CLERGYMAN'S  DAUGHTER.  215 

No  prompter  checks  the  jargon  universal. 

For  Life's  a  Spouting  Club, — without  rehearsal. 

The  smart  frizeur,  who  deals  in  tropes  and  strops, 
Exclaims-—"  a  frost,  a  killing  frost," — in  crops  ! 
And  vents,  at  fashion's  cue,  all  cues  to  doff, 
"  A  deep  damnation  on  their  taking  off !  1" 
The  fop  demurs — "  to  be  or  not  to  be ;" 
"  Off  with  his  head  !"  roars  Bobadil,  and  clips — a  flea  i 
"  We  fly  by  night !" — while  boasts  the  swindling  spark, 
Tipstaff  "  peeps  through  the  blanket  of  the  dark  ! 
"  My  bond, — I'll  have  my  bond," — old  Foreclose  cries ; 
"  Who  steals  my  purse  steals  trash,"— -the  bard  replies ; 
"  Out,  damned  spot  1"  snarls  old  Miss  Pimple  Fret ; 
"  There's  rue  for  you," — whispers  her  arch  soubrette. 
The  love-sick  cook-maid  lisps—hist,  Romeo,  hist  i" 
"  And  snip, — the  tailor,— rants,  "  List,  list,  oh  !  list !" 

While  thus  the  stage  is  filled  with  masquerade, 
And  bankrupt  Thespis  mourns  his  plundered  trade, 
What,  if  in  turn, — 'tis  justice  fairly  due,— 
The  actor's  eye-glass  takes  a  squint  at  you  ! 

Sir  Fopling  Classick  is  a  wight,  I  ween, 
Who  reads  to  quote,  and  dresses  to  be  seen ; 
The  prince  of  folly,  and  the  fool  of  wit, 
He  plots  a  dinner,  to  campaign  a  hit ; 
With  well-drest  wisdom,  tout  a  fait  he  looks, 
The  sage  of  fashion  and  ban-ton  of  books. 
In  scenick  unities  so  strict  is  he, 
Time,  place  and  action — touch  and  take  rappee  ! 


216  EPILOGUE  TO  THE 

Anon,  heigho  !  his  critick  sneeze  emphatick, 
Proclaims  the  raptures  of  effect  dramatick. 
In  life's  great  play — no  Stagyrite  to  shine — 
His  plot  is  woman,  and  his  moral  wine. 
Thus  with  a  muse,  a  mistress  and  a  bottle, 
Gay  Skeffington  surmounts  grave  Aristotle, 

His  own  reverse,  and  yet  himself  the  time, 
A  bard  in  powder,  and  a  beau  in  rhyme ; — 
A  man  of  coral,— -such  are  fashion's  powers  I 
A  plant  of  stone, — that  vegetates  and  flowers  ; 
A  fragrant  exhalation,— raised  to  fade,— 
From  roseate  rhetorick,  and  rose  pomade  ;— 
A  sweet  confection,  fit  for  love  or — tea, 
A  lettered  lozenge,— -stuffed — poetice  ;— • 
Sir  Fopling  dashes,  while  his  goblet  pours, 
And  who  can  doubt,  an  empty  glass  encores  \ 
His  tropes  and  figures  into  ferment  whipt, 
See,  in  the  froth  of  words,  his  tube  is  dipt ! 

The  bubble  floats, — from  classick  suds  refined, — 

t 

It  shines — it  bursts — and  leaves  no  foam  behind  ! 
Choice  spirits  all — his  sccrvoir  -ui-vre  club 
Have  tickled  trouts,  and  sure  may  hook  a  chub  ! 

Who  delves  to  be  a  wit,  must  own  a  mine, 
In  wealth  must  glitter,  ere  in  taste  he  shine ; 
Gold  buys  him  genius,  and  no  churl  will  rail, 
When  feasts  are  brilliant,  that  a  pun  is  stale. 
Tip  wit  with  gold  ; — each  shaft  with  shouts  is  flown  ;- 
He  drinks  Campaign,  and  must  not  laugh  alone. 
The  grape  has  point,  although  the  joke  be  flat ! 
Pop !  goQs  the  cork  I—there's  epigram  in  that  I 


CLERGYMAN'S  DAUGHTER.  217 

The  spouting  bottle  is  the  brisk  jet  d*  eau, 
Which  shows  how  high  its  fountain  head  can  throw  ! 
See  !  while  the  foaming  mist  ascends  the  room, 
Sir  Fopling  rises  in  the  -vif  fierfume  ! 

But  ah  !  the  classick  knight  at  length  perceives 
His  laurels  drop  with  fortune's  falling  leaves. 
He  vapours  cracks  and  clenches  as  before* 
But  other  tables  have  not  learnt  to  roar. 
At  last,  in  fashion  bankrupt,  as  in  pence, 
He  first  discovers  undiscovered  sense  — 
And  finds, — without  one  jest  in  all  his  bags,— 
A  wit  in  ruffles  is  a  fool  in  rags  I 

Lorn  through  the  lobby  see  the  Poet  steal, 
Fregetting  life,  while  he  can  live  to  feel; 
To  blank  oblivion  yielding  private  woe, 
While  publick  virtue  gives  one  tear  to  flow  ; 
And,  charmed  with  fiction,  that  her  sorrows  bless, 
His  fancy  riots  in  the  loved  distress. 
But  ah  ! — illusion  sweet  of  tears  and  smiles, 
Where  virtue  revels,  while  romance  beguiles, 
What  cheerless  hours  doth  destiny  delay, 
Till  recollected  life  returns  with  day  ! — 
When  he,  who  wanders  with  a  poet's  name, 
Must  live  on  friendship,  while  he  starves  on  fame  \ 

Blest  be  the  bard,  whose  tender  tale  inspires    - 
The  passioned  scene  with  virtue's  holiest  fires  ; 
Who  draws  from  brightest  eyes  the  moistened  soul 
And  bids  their  tributes  glitter,  as  they  roll  I 


28 


218  EPILOGUE  TO  THE 

To  moral  truth  when  loveliest  grace  is  given. 

The  smile  of  Beauty  is  a  ray  from  heaven ; — 

Soft  as  the  fairy  web,  Arachne  weaves 

To  ward  the  night-dew  from  the  lily's  leaves ; 

Chaste  as  the  pity  of  Aurora's  tears, 

When  the  web  trembles  with  the  pearl  it  bears. 

Yon  dapper  Dash — who  screens  the  lobby  fire — 
Is  doughty  Peter  Paragraph,  Esquire,— 
Forever  knowing — and  forever  known,— 
The  gay  Court  Calender— of  all  the  town. 
His  brilliant  fancy  wings  such  rapid  flights, 
That  his  pen  flashes, — like  the  northern  lights  1 
On  fashion's  face  he  marks  each  patch  and  pimple,— 
Notes  all  the  Belle  Assemble — to  a  dimple  ! 
Keeps  dates  of  wrinkles — sets  each  freckle  down,- — 
And  knows  the  age  of  each  old  maid  in  town ! 
—Puff,  and  Post  Obit, — naught  is  he  perplexed  on,— 
And,  Death  or  Marriage,— he  is  Clerk  or  Sexton  1 
Whate'er  the  theme, — his  is  the  quill  to  grace  it,— 
From  "  consumatum  est"---to  grave— u  hie  jacet !" 
Wherever  folly  lies— hi  wise  perdue,— 
Quick  as  heat  lightning— and  as  harmless  too, 
He  splinters  words,  as  gamesters  rattle  dice, 
And  sparkles,  like  a  man,  who  chops  on  ice. 
In  daily  lounge,  Cornhill  fia-ve  he  passes, 
To  study  signs,  and  ogle  looking  glasses  ! 
His  spleen — at  vulgar  gutters— never  rankles ; 
He  thanks  their  mud — for  every  pair  of  ankles  1 
Nor  thinks, — while  feasting  on  caprice  and  whim, — 
One  grace  too  naked,  or  one  fop  too  slim  ! 


CLERGYMAN'S  DAUGHTER.  219 

Belles,  beaux,  and  blankets,— tiffanies  and  teas,— 
He  borrows  all  he  knows,  from  all  he  sees. 
Then  home  for  fame, — to  scribble  to  be  sure, — 
For  every  traveller  must  write  a  tour  ;— 
He  gives  the  world  the  gleanings  of  his  ramble, 
As  nuts  are  thrown  to  monkies,— for  a  scramble  ! 

Eh  ! — I've  a  full  length  Critick  in  my  eye  ! 
Shall  I  or  not  ? — He'll  catch  me,  or  I'd  try  I 
Egad,  I'm  in  for't ! — see,  he's  at  me  too  ! 
Pray,  Sir,  turn  round, — I'll  take  a  profile  view. 
Nay  ! — nouns  and  pronouns  save  such  want  of  grace  ! 
A  Poet  look  a  critick  in  the  face  ! 
Such  courage  ne'er  was  known  'mong  rhyming  elves, 
Since  they,  who're  criticks  now,  wrote  tags  themselves. 
Streams,  when  neglected,  sink  to  common  sewers, 
And  disappointed  Authors  turn  Reviewers  !* 
Like  stagnant  pools,  they  breathe  putrescent  air, 
From  the  green  film,  their  fetid  bosoms  bear. 
Fie  ! — frown  not,-— WE,  who  catch  the  trick  of  faces, 
Must  rouse  the  passions,  to  excite  the  graces : 
Now, — in  what  Act,  Sir,  was  our—efiitasis  ? 
The  busy,  bustling  action  of  our  play  ? 
"  The  scenes  with  Abigail"— ha !  there  you  say  ! — 
"  The  eyes  of  beauty  beamed  with  lightning  there," 
"  When  hopeless  virtue  proudly  spurned  despair." 
Caught  by  a  twinkle  from  "  the  eye  of  beauty  !" 
A  Critick  too  !— most  Stocick  Sir, — my  duty. — 
Nature  will  break,— encase  her  how  you  will,— 
A  Cat  in  pattens  is  Grimalkin  still. 

*  These  two  lines  are  altered  from  the  "  Children  of  T-hespis." 


220  EPILOGUE  TO  THE 

But  soft,  he  speaks — "  An  Epilogue  may  sport 

"  With  a  broad  patent,  like  a  fool  at  court ; 

«  But  while  you  laugh  by  text,  and  rail  by  rote, 

"  Your  author's  fable  has  our  warmest  vote." — . 

I  thank  you,  Sir, — I'll  have  that  down  by  note. 

"  His  Hero  needs  no  advocate  at  bar ; — 

"  We  see  his  virtues  in  its  native  spar  ! 

Now,— what  of  Sindal  ? — How  did  he  appear  I 

"  Like  a  rich  jewel  in  an  Ethiop's  ear  !" 

"  In  crime  accomplished,  and  in  wit  refined, 

"  His  veiy  genius  blurred  the  grace  of  mind." 

But  what  of  Gripe  ? — «  Such  knaves  elude  the  law, 

<*  And  live,  like  leeches,  on  the  blood  they  draw. 

fc  When  Gripe  the  balance  with  his  conscience  made§ 

"  He  kept  his  vices,  as  his  stock  in  trade.— 

"  Spawned  in  the  alley,  by  its  logick  reared, 

u  He  shaves  a  note,  as  Smallpeace  shaves  a  beard  ; 

"  And  both  so  well  their  office  understand, 

«  They  trim  you  smooth, — and  yet  conceal  the  hand  !" 

Oh  !  what  is  man,  who,  thus  debased  by  pelf, 
All  human  nature  sinks  in  human  self; 
Who  basely  pilfers,  with  unfeeling  joy, 
A  mother's  picture  from  an  artless  boy  1 
When  man's  deserting  soul  forsakes  his  breast, 
To  pine  a  death-watch  in  a  miser's  chest, 
The  starving  hypocrite  allegiance  swears, 
To  gold  and  grace,  to  poverty  and  prayers ; 
And,  not  one  joy  his  flickering  lamp  to  cheer, 
Lives  without  love,  and  dies  without  a  tear  ! 
Such  are  the,  "  Gripes,"  the  meanest  of  their  tribe, 
Who  cheat  themselves,  and  chuckle  at  the  bribe  ; 


CLERGYMAN'S   DAUGHTER.  221 

Who  bury  nature,  ere  her  mortal  doom, 
And  drag  existence  in  a  living  tomb. 

In  life's  dark  cell,  pale  burns  their  glimmering  soul ; 
A  rush-light  warms  the  winter  of  the  pole. 
To  chill  and  cheerless  solitude  confined, 
No  spring  of  virtue  thaws  the  ice  of  mind. 
They  creep  in  blood,  as  frosty  streamlets  flow, 
And  freeze  with  life,  as  dormice  sleep  in  snow. 
Like  snails,  they  bear  their  dungeons  on  their  backs,,. 
And  shut  out  light, — to  save  a  window  tax  ! 

Not  so  gay  Coelebs  lives,  nor  wife,  nor  child, 
E'er  blessed  his  arms,  or  on  his  bounty  smiled ; 
Yet,  touched  by  nature,  his  affections  glow, 
And  claim  their  kindred  to  the  man  of  woe. 
Mid  wine  and  mirth  while  rolls  his  daily  round, 
The  secret  want,  the  meek  distress  is  found ; 
Silent  as  light,  and,  like  its  soiiffce,  serene. — 
His  bounty  gives  unknown,  and  warms  unseen. 
He  feels,  while  tears  the  sacred  joy  confess, 
Man  likens  God,  when  he  has  power  to  bless, 

Criticks  there  are,  who  boast  a  noble  race ; 
Who  twine  with  genius  every  lettered  grace ; ' 
Candid  to  censure,  generous  to  commend, 
The  polished  scholar,  and  the  faithful  friend, 
Loved  by  the  Muse,  they  feel  the  poet's  fire, 
And  soothe  the  minstrel,  while  they  tune  his  lyre  ; 
On  private  merit,  publick  fame  they  raise, 
For  every  Nation  shares  its  Author's  praise. 


222  EPILOGUE  TO  THE  POOR  LODGER. 


EPILOGUE 

• 

TO    THE    POOR   LODGER. 

Enter  HARRIET. 

\ViTH  anxious  heart,  that  beats  for  perils  past, 
Your  happy  Harriet  now  comes  home,  at  last : 
A  home,  indeed  1  where  oft,  each  generous  mind 
With  fame  has  cheered  her,  and  with  taste  refined : 
Where  first,  her  powers  indulgent  to  disclose, 
You  op'd  the  petals  of  the  budding  rose ; 
Bade  the  young  stalk,  with  trembling  blossoms,  rise, 
Warmed  by  your  beams,  though  foreign  to  your  skies, 
And  placed,— oh,  grateful  jo^  with  fondest  care, 
The  fostered  flow'ret  in  your  own  parterre  I 

Enter  SIR  HARRY. 

Sir  Har.  Sure,  such  a  flower  would  flourish,  any  where  ? 

Har.  Gallant,  Sir  Harry — 

Sir  Har.  — Harley,  happy  lover  ! 

But  I,  as  happy,  am  for  life, — 

Har.  -—a  rover — 

Forever  on  a  voyage,-— 

Sir  Har.  — that  ne'er  is  over. 

Har.  Spoke  like  a  gownsman — 

Sir  Har.  — No,  I  scorn  the  schools, 

Wit  may  be  wisdom,  but  all  wits  are  fools. 


EPILOGUE  TO  THE  POOR  LODGER.       223 

Har.  The  slaves  of  fools — the  most  unlucky  elves — 
Life's  feast  they  cater — 

Sir  Har.  —but  ne'er  eat  themselves— 

One  bliss  they  have,  all  other  joys,  above — 

Enter  LORD  HARLEY. 

L.  Har.  What's  that,  Sir  Harry?— 

Sir  Har.  (  With  allusion.)  — To  be  blest  in  love. 

L.  Har.  And  none  should  envy,  whom  the  fair  approve. 

Sir  Har.  (Assuming  himself.)    White  hours  attend  you—/ 

bang  up.— Adieu  ! 

Ask  not  my  rout — for  none  I  ever  knew— 
And  yet  there's  one  I  always  shall  pursue— 
(Mimicking.)  Cross  channel,  take  chaise,  down  glass,  look 

profound— 
"  Eh  !— I  say— Coachee— whither  am  I  bound  ?" 

'[Going  off 5  noise  without,  between  the  Widow  and 

Joblin.     Sir  Harry  looking  out. 
Prime  ! — Our  old  widow  sparring  like  Mendoza  ! 

WIDOW  entering^  and  JOBLIN. 

Wid.  Not  I !  don't  think  I'll  pay— 

Job.  — Dick's  fortin— 

Wid.  —No,  Sir, 

Maifois  !  (Bridling.) 

Job.  I'll  charge  it,  then,  as  I'm — 

DICK.  (Pofijiing  in.)  — a  grocer. 

Job.  Dick,  claim  your  rights,  and  don't  stand  there  a  grin- 
ning— 

Wid.  You  marry  Harriet — 

Dick.  —Yes — I'm  very  winning — 

I  courted  purely— 


224  EPILOGUE  TO  THE  POOR  LOfiGEEt. 

Job.  — put  on  all  his  graces — 

And  looked  and  talked — 

Dick.  — as  fine  as  aunty's  lace  is. 

Sir  Har.  And  sighed,  no  doubt,  as  sweet  as  father's  mace  is. 

Wid.  No  wife,  no  fortune — 

Sir  Har.  - — what  a  city  drove  ! 

Dick.  Then  /  be  certain,  /  be  crossed  in  love— 

L.  Har.  Ne'er  mind  it,  Dick,  'tis  no  great  odds  in  life, 
To  lose  a  fortune,  or,— 

Job.  — to  gain  a  wife— 

Sir  Har.  (  Who  has  been  reconnoitering  the  Widow.) 
Pray,  did  this  gay  antique  ere  chance  to  pop 
Within  the  purlieus  of  a  frizeur's  shop  ? 

Wid.  Did'st  ever  see,  the  making—- 

Sir  Har.  — of— 

Dick.  —a  fop ! 

Sir  Har.  Prime  and  bang  up.  /—Why,  widow,  Dick's  a  wit ; 
Give  him  the  fortune,  he'll  have  need  of  it ! 

Job.  Nay,  fear  not,  Dick — be  witty  as  you  will — 
I  wrote  a  rebus  once— 

Dick.  — who  nibbed  the  quill  ? 

L.  Har.  (To  Widow  Dan-v era,  who  has  been  talking  ajiart 
with  him.     At  the  same  time  POOR  LODGER  enters  above.) 
Your  generous  offer  I  can  ne'er  reprove  ; 
But  I  have  wealth  enough  in  Harriet's  love. 

Har.  (Advancing.)  Nay,  since  a  fortune  be  in  search  of 
ownersj 

P.Lodg.  (Coming  down.)  Adopt  our  author,  and  be  you 

the  donors  !  (To  the  audience.) 
Fortune,  who  feeds  all  other  fools  on  earth, 
Was  never  present  at  a  Poet's  birth  J 


EPILOGUE  TO  THE  POOR  LODGER.       225 

The  oaf  of  Nature  all  her  care  partakes ; 

The  child  of  mind  she  smiles  on,  and  forsakes. 

And  though  each  Muse  has  sought  her  fond  regard — 

Job.  She  ne'er  would  stand  godmother  to  a  bard. 

P.  Lodg.  Each  well-dressed  driv'ler  lettered  fame  exacts, 

Sir  Har.  Well ! — Books  are  lettered  only  on  their  backs. 
There's  pedigree  in  dress ;  none  else  has  charms ; 
A  coat  of  fashion  is  a  coat  of  arms  ! 

P.  Lodg.  Hence  the  wise  world,  not  wiser  than  of  old, 
That  toiling  chemist,  still  extracting  gold, 
Neglecting  still  Wealth's  noblest  use  and  end, 
To  polish  man,  and  social  life  defend, 
Calls  sacred  genius  Nature's  waste  of  pains, 
The  gift  of  Fortune — 

Job.  C  Who  has  beenJidgetting.)~Q,\\xz$  the  want  of  brains  1 

Wid.  There,  Dick— 

Sir  Har.  —Conclusive— 

Dick.  — Father,  don't  you  sham  ? 

Job.  I'll  prove,  by  ledger — 

Dick.  —-what  a  wit  I  am. 

Har.  Since  then  a  wit  yourself  with  wealth  ;   to  spare  it, 
Reward  our  Poet— 

Job.  — he  shall  have  our  garret ! 

Dick.  No  father — had  "  Poor  Lodgers"  there,  enough. 

Sir  Har.  What  would  your  wisdom,  then  ?— 

Dick.  • — write  him  a  Puff ! 

Har.  Truce  to  our  trifling  ; — now,  our  author  craves 
That  just  decision,  which  condemns,  or  saves. 

P.  Lodg.  (Coming  forward.)  A  father,  rescued  by  a  child, 
disowned — . 

Har.  Has,  by  his  kindness,  every  fault  atoned. 

29 


226  EPILOGUE  TO  THE  POOR  LODGER. 

L.  Har.  We  all  are  wanderers— all  mistake  our  way-— 
P.  Lodg.  Yet  faithful  Nature  never  goes  astray. 

Life's  a  great  Inn  ;  and  each  is  but  a  guest ; 

Beneath  this  roof,  then,  let  us  take  our  rest. 

while,  to  errors  past,  I  drop  a  tear — 
Har,  May  our  "  Poor  Lodger"  find  a  welcome,  here  I 


MONODY 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF 


LIEUTENANT  GENERAL  SIR  JOHN  MOORE. 


"  He  was  the  mark  and  glass,  copy  and  book, 
"  That  fashioned  others."  Shakespeare. 


MONODY. 


SCENE,  Corwn72a....TiME,  Evening  Twilighf* 

W  HAT  glitt'ring  form  sweeps  hurried  o'er  the  main. 
And,  hov'ring,  ponders  o'er  yon  dark  champaign, 
Where  bleak  Corunna's  bleeding  waste  extends, 
And  war's  red  bolt  from  bursting  clouds  descends  ? 
I  know  Thee  now,  by  thy  majestick  charms  ; 
Bright  Island  Goddess,  Queen  of  arts  and  arms  ! 

High  on  thy  barque,  alone,  thou  spurn'st  the  flood, 
Which  deluged  nations  still  o'erwhelms  with  blood. 
The  foaming  tempest,  while  it  strikes  thy  shore, 
Exalts  thy  flag,  and  bids  thy  forests  roar. 
Calm  on  the  surge,  thy  fixed,  unaltering  eye 
Surveys  the  storm  that  breaks  against  the  sky  ; 
O'er  mountain  waves,  along  the  whirlwind's  race, 
It  dares  the  journey  of  the  blast  to  trace. 

But  now,  alas  !  thy  robes  imperial  flow, 
In  all  the  frantick  negligence  of  woo  j 


230  MONODY  ON  MOORE. 

With  burning  bosom,  o'er  the  darkling  wave, 

Thou  com'st  to  kneel  beside  thy  Warriour's  grave  ; 

Where  sacred  sleeps,  in  village  turf  enshrined, 

That  gallant  form,  which  breathed  a  nation's  mind. 

Fame  o'er  his  recent  sod  no  statue  rears, 

But  Victory  writes  his  epitaph  in  tears ! 

Let  Triumph  weep  !  In  Freedom's  generous  van 

To  die  for  glory,  is  to  die  for  man ; 

The  bleeding  Patriot,  with  a  seraph's  eye, 

Sees  through  each  wound  a  passage  to  the  sky. 

Lamented  Moore  !  how  loved,  how  graced,  wert  Thou  I 
What  air  majestick  dazzled  on  thy  brow  1 
By  genius  raised,  and  by  ambition  fired, 
To  die  distinguished,  as  to  live  admired ; 
In  battle  brilliant,  as  in  council  grave ; 
Stern  to  encounter,  but  humane  to  save ; 
Virtue  and  valour  in  thy  bosom  strove, 
Which  most  should  claim  our  homage  or  our  love. 
In  thee  they  flowed  without  the  pulse  of  art, 
The  throbbing  life-blood  of  thy  fervid  heart ; 
While,  warm  from  Nature,  panting  Honour  drew 
That  vital  instinct,  Heaven  imparts  to  few  ; 
That  pride  of  arms,  which  prompts  the  brave  design, 
That  grace  of  soul,  which  makes  the  brave  divine ! 

His  heart  elate,  with  modest  valour  bold, 
Beat  with  fond  rage,  to  vie  with  chiefs  of  old. 
Great  by  resolve,  yet  by  example  warmed, 
Himself  the  model  of  his  glory  formed. 
A  glowing  trait  from  every  chief  he  caught  j 
He  paused  like  Fabius,  and  like  Cesar  fought. 


MONODY  ON  MOORE.  231 

His  ardent  hope  surveyed  the  heights  of  fame, 
Deep  on  its  rocks,  to  grave  a  soldier's  name ; 
And  o'er  its  cliffs  to  bid  the  banner  wave, 
A  Briton  fights,  to  conquer  and  to  save. 

On  martial  ground,  the  school  of  heroes'  taught, 
He  studied  battles,  where  campaigns  were  fought. 
By  science  led,  he  traced  each  scene  of  fame, 
Where  war  had  left  no  stone  without  a  name. 
Hills,  streams  and  plains  bore  one  extended  chart 
Of  warriors'  deeds,  and  showed  of  arms  the  art. 
The  tactick  canvass  all  its  lore  revealed, 
To  seize  the  moment,  and  dispose  the  field. 
Here,  still  and  desperate,  near  the  midnight  pass, 
Couched  ambush  listened  in  the  deep  morass ; 
There,  Skill,  opposed  by  Fortune,  shaped  its  way, 
With  prompt  decision,  and  with  firm  array  ; 
Here,  paused  the  fight,  and  there  the  contest  raved, 
A  squadron  routed,  or  an  empire  saved  ! l 

Inspired  on  fields,  with  trophied  interest  graced, 
He  sighed  for  glory,  where  he  mused  from  taste. 
For  high  emprize  his  dazzling  helm  was  plumed, 
And  all  the  polished  patriot-hero  bloomed. 
Armed  as  he  strode,  his  glorying  country  saw, 
That  fame  was  virtue,  and  ambition  law  ; 
In  him  beheld,  witfy  fond  delight,  conspire 
Her  Marlboro's  fortune  and  her  Sidney's  fire. 
Like  Calvi's  rock,  with  clefts  abrupt  deformed, 
His  path  to  fame  toiled  up  the  breach,  he  stormed ; 
Till  o'er  the  clouds  the  victor  chief  was  seen, 
Sublime  in  terrour,  and  in  height  serene.* 


232  MONODY  ON  MOORE. 

His  equal  mind  so  well  could  triumph  greet, 
He  gave  to  conquest  charms,  that  soothed  defeat. 
The  battle  done,  his  brow,  with  thought  o'ercast, 
Benign  as  mercy,  smiled  on  perils  past. 
The  death-choaked  fosse,  the  battered  wall,  inspired 
A  sense,  that  sought  him,  from  the  field  retired. 
Suspiring  pity  touched  that  godlike  heart, 
To  which  no  peril  could  dismay  impart ; 
And  melting  pearls  in  that  stern  eye  could  shine, 
That  lightened  courage  down  the  thundering  line. 
So  mounts  the  sea-bird  in  the  Boreal  sky, 
And  sits  where  steeps  in  beetling  ruin  lie  ; 
Though  warring  whirlwinds  curl  the  Norway  seas, 
And  the  rocks  tremble,  and  the  torrents  freeze  ; 
Yet  is  the  fleece,  by  Beauty's  bosom  prest, 
The  down,  that  warms  the  storm-beat  Eyder's  breast ; 
Mid  floods  of  frost,  where  Whiter  smites  the  deep, 
Are  fledged  the  plumes,  on  which  the  Graces  sleep. 

In  vain  thy  cliffs,  Hispania,  lift  the  sky, 
Where  Cesar's  eagles  never  dared  to  fly  ! 
To  rude  and  sudden  arms  while  Freedom  springs, 
Napoleon's  legions  mount  on  bolder  wings. 
In  vain  thy  sons  their  steely  nerves  oppose, 
Bare  to  the  rage  of  tempests  and  of  foes  ; 
In  vain,  with  naked  breast,  the  storm  defy 
Of  furious  battle,  and  of  piercing  sky  ; 
Pive  waning  reigns  had  marked  in  long  decay, 
The  gloomy  glory  of  thy  setting  day  ;3 
While  bigot  power,  with  dark  and  dire  disgrace* 
Oppressed  the  valour  of  thy  gallant  race* 


MONODY  ON  MOORE.  233 

No  martial  phalanx,  led  by  veteran  art, 
Combined  thy  vigour,  or  confirmed  thy  heart : 
Thy  bands  dispersed,  like  Rome  in  wild  defeat, 
Fled  to  the  mountains,  to  intrench  retreat.3 

O'er  hill,  or  vale,  where'er  thy  sky  descends, 
The  pomp  of  hostile  chivalry  extends. 
High  o'er  thy  brow,  the  giant  glaive  is  reared, 
Deep  in  the  wounds  of  bleeding  nations  smeared. 
Ere  Britain's  shield  could  catch  th'  impending  blade, 
Thy  helm  was  shattered,  and  thy  arm  dismayed. 
Yet,  while  the  faulchion  fell,  thy  brave  ally 
Cheered,  with  a  blaze  of  mail,  thy  closing  eye ; 
By  hosts  assailed,  her  little  Spartan  band 
Braved  the  swift  onset,  and  the  cool  command. 
Historick  glory  rushed  through  British  veins, 
And  shades  of  Heroes  stalked  Corunna's  plains  j 
While  Gallia  saw,  amid  the  battle's  glare, 
That  Minden,  Blenheim,  Agincourt,  were  there  1 

Loved  as  the  sport,  where  erst,  on  Abraham's  height, 
Fate  aimed  her  dart,  as  victory  glanced  her  light : 
Where  bleeding  Wolfe,  with  virtue's  calmest  pride, 
Enjoyed  the  Patriot,  while  the  Warriour  died  : 

Firm,  as  the  conflict,  when  the  tumults  roar 
Rome's  last  great  Hero  woke  on  Egypt's  shore ; 
When  Abercrombie  swelled  the  urn  of  fame, 
And  mixed  his  dust  with  Pompey's  mighty  name  : 

Bold,  as  the  blast,  which  winged  the  blaze  of  war, 
Round  the  rough  rocks  of  trembling  Trafalgar ; 
30 


MONODY  ON  MOORE. 

When  Nelson,  lightening  o'er  the  maddened  wave, 
Bade  Ocean  quake  beneath  his  coral  cave ; 
And,  heavenward  gazing,  as  his  God  retired, 
Thundered  in  triumph,  and  in  flames  expired : 

Illustrious  Moore,  by  foe  and  famine  prest, 
Yet,  by  each  soldier's  proud  affection  blest, 
Unawed  by  numbers,  saw  the  impending  host, 
With  front  extending,  lengthen  down  the  coast. 
"  Charge  !  Britons,  Charge  !"  the  exulting  chief  exclaims, 
Swift  moves  the  field ;  the  tide  of  armour  flames  ; 
On,  on  they  rush,  the  solid  column  flies, 
And  shouts  tremendous,  as  the  foe  defies. 
While  all  the  battle  rung  from  side  to  side, 
In  death  to  conquer,  was  the  warriour's  pride. 
Where'er  the  unequal  war  its  tempest  poured, 
The  leading  meteor  was  his  glittering  sword  1 
Thrice  met  the  fight ;  and  thrice  the  vanquished  Gaul 
Found  the  firm  line  an  adamantine  wall. 
Again  repulsed,  again  the  legions  drew, 
And  fate's  dark  shafts  in  vollied  shadows  flew. 
Now  stormed  the  scene,  where  soul  could  soul  attest, 
Squadron  to  squadron  joined,  and  breast  to  breast ! 
From  rank  to  rank,  the  interpid  valour  glowed ; 
From  rank  to  rank,  the  inspiring  Champion  rode. 
Loud  broke  the  war-cloud,  as  his  charger  sped  ; 
Pale  the  curved  lightening  quivered  o'er  his  head ! 
Again  it  bursts  !  Peal,  echoing  peal,  succeeds  ! 
The  bolt  is  launched ;  the  peerless  Soldier  bleeds  ! 
Hark !  as  he  falls,  Fame's  swelling  clarion  cries, 
Britania  triumphs,  though  her  Hero  dies  ! 


MONODY  ON  MOORE.  235 

The  grave,  he  fills,  is  all  the  realm  she  yields, 
And  that  proud  empire  deathless  honour  shields. 
No  fabled  Phoenix  from  his  bier  revives ; 
His  ashes  perish,  but  his  Country  lives  ! 


Immortal  Dead  !  with  musing  awe,  thy  foes 
Tread  not  the  hillock,  where  thy  bones  repose  I 
There,  sacring  mourner,  see,  Britania  spreads 
A  chaplet,  glistening  with  the  tears  she  sheds  j 
With  burning  censer,  glides  around  thy  tomb, 
And  scatters  incense,  where  thy  laurels  bloom ; 
With  rapt  devotion  sainted  vigil  keeps ; 
Shines  with  Religion,  and  with  Glory  weeps ; 
With  Grief  exults,  with  Extacy  deplores  ; 
With  Pride  laments,  and  with  despair  adores  ! 
Sweet  sleep  Thee,  Brave  !  In  solemn  chaunt,  shall  sound 
Celestial  vespers,  o'er  thy  sacred  ground  ! 
Long  ages  hence,  in  pious  twilight  seen, 
Shall  quires  of  seraphs  sanctify  thy  green  ; 
At  curfew  hour,  shall  dimly  hover  there, 
And  charm,  with  sweetest  dirge,  the  listening  air  ! 
With  homage  tranced,  shall  every  pensive  mind 
Weep,  while  the  requiem  passes  on  the  wind ; 
Till,  sadly  swelling,  Sorrow's  softest  notes, 
It  dies  in  distance,  while  its  echo  floats ! 

No  stoneless  sod  shall  hold  that  mighty  shade, 
Whose  life  could  man's  wide  universe  pervade. 
No  mould'ring  prison-  of  sepulchral  earth, 
In  dumb  oblivion,  shall  confine  thy  worth  j 
The  battle  heath  shall  lift  thy  marble  fame, 
And  grow  immortal,  as  it  marks  thy  name. 


236  MONODY  ON  MOORE. 

Heaven's  holiest  tears  shall  nightly  kiss  thy  dust, 
That  dawn's  first  smiles  may  gem  the  hero's  bust ; 
And  pilgrim  Glory,  in  remotest  years, 
Shall  seek  thy  tomb,  to  read  the  tale,  it  bears. 

EPITAPH. 

"  Stop,  Ruin  !  stay  thy  scythe  !  here  slumbers  Moore  ; 
"  Whom  Honour  nurtured,  and  whom  Virtue  bore  ! 
"A  nation's  hope,  adored  by  all  the  brave ; 
"  Heaven  caught  his  soul,  and  Earth  reveres  his  grave  ! 
"  Sublime,  the  Christian,  and  the  Hero,  trod ; 
w  His  Country  all,  he  loved,  and  all,  he  feared  his  God !" 


NOTES  TO  THE  MONODY.  237 


NOTES. 


NOTE  1. 

"JL  squadron  routed,  or  an  empire  saved" 

» 

IT  has  been  universally  allowed,  that  the  classical  and  military 
advantages  of  Sir  John  Moore*s  education  were  superiour  to  those 
of  any  modern  English  General.  These  great  opportunities  of  im- 
provement to  his  tactical  intuition  were  afforded  in  the  school  of 
living  history,  on  the  scite  of  battles,  marked  with  the  vestiges  of 
victory  and  defeat,  of  stratagem  and  fortune.  The  scenes,  over 
which  he  dwelt  with  the  fondest  devotion,  were  those,  which  had 
formed  the  theatre  of  the  wars  of  the  illustrious  Frederick; 
a  hero,  who,  on  one  day  could  not  place  his  foot  on  one  inch 
of  sand,  which  would  own  his  impression  as  a  master  ;  and  who,  on 
on  the  next  day,  was  the  lord  of  an  empire,  and,  by  the  fame  of  his 
talents,  the  awe,  the  astonishment  and  the  admiration  of  Europe. 
The  line  of  the  poem  above  quoted  alludes  to  the  celebrated  battle, 
which  achieved  this  glorious  event. 

Had  this  distinguished  military  prince  transmitted  to  the  present 
incumbent  on  his  throne  that  character  and  science  of  arms,  which 
were  so  much  admired,  and  so  enthusiastically  studied  by  Sir  John, 
when  he  travelled  under  the  tutelage  of  his  father,  with  the  Duke  of 
Hamilton — the  day,  in  which  we  live,  would  have  been  spared  the 
shame  to  have  witnessed  the  disgraceful  and  perfidious  flight  of 
Jena,  nor  would  it  have  so  painfully  perceived  the  terrible  distinc- 
tion, between, 

"Jl  squadron  routed,  or  an  empire  saved  ."* 


238  NOTES  TO  THE  MONODY. 

But  national  hypocrisy,  like  the  fraud  of  individuals,  is  always 
punished  by  a  signal  Providence.  The  affectation  of  sovereignty  is 
but  the  shadow  of  power  ;  and  while  the  hundred  arms  of  Briareus 
gave  him  the  reputation  of  a  Giant,  yet  this  would  have  been  but 
an  empty  proclamation  of  strength,  had  he  not  been  inspired  with 
the  courage  to  lift  even  one  of  his  fingers  at  his  enemy. 
"Has  toties  optata  exegit  Gloria  ptenas.'* 


NOTE  2. 

"Sublime  in  terror,  and  in  height  serene.19 

IT  has  been  the  fate  of  Sir  John  Moore,  a  fate  most  severely  un- 
propitious  to  the  reputation  and  honour  of  some  administrations  of 
the  British  Cabinet,  to  be  envied,  opposed,  checked,  cramped  and 
neglected,  (~durante  potestatej  from  the  first  onset  of  his  military 
life.  His  great  talents,  dauntless  courage,  commanding  person, 
practical  knowledge,  gallant  virtues,  contempt  of  selfishness,  inac- 
cessability  to  party,  firmness  in  battle,  and  generosity  to  his  army, 
and  above  all,  his  rapid  and  comprehensive  foresight  of  the  fears 
and  the  hopes  of  a  jejunely  projected  expedition,  and  his  own  reject- 
ed map^of  an  admirable  campaign,  which  might,  in  all  military  and 
geographical  calculation,  have  reduced  the  invaders  of  Spain  to 
submission  or  flight,  condemned  him  to  the  honourable  neglect  of 
the  ministry,  whom  he  despised.  But  this  persecution  had  been 
practised  before,  and  under  the  same  influence.  At  the  siege  of 
Calvi,  one  of  the  mountainous,  and  the  best  fortified  towns  in  Corsica, 
and  to  which  the  line  in  the  Poem  refers,  Sir  John  was  eminently 
distinguished.  It  was  the  last,  and  was  deemed  the  impregnable 
strong  hold  of  the  Island.  From  the  eminence  of  its  rocks,  and 
the  danger  of  its  access,  it  demanded  a  veteran  and  a  hero  in  the  art 
of  war,  to  assault  and  reduce  it  to  surrender.  This  exploit  of  skill 
and  of  honour  Sir  John  undertook  and  performed ;  and  this  intrepid 
and  scientifick  General's  services  in  Corsica  were  rewarded  by  the 
impolitick  and  calculating  ingratitude  of  an  invidious  ministry. 


NOTES  TO  THE  MONODY.  239 

NOTE  3. 

"Fled  to  the  mountains,  to  intrench  retreat." 

ROME  was  built  on  its  own  seven  hills,  which  gave  security  to  its 
glory,  while  its  virtue  remained.  Yet  its  inhabitants,  reared  to  hab- 
its of  legionary  discipline,  and  bold  in  their  contempt  of  death,  had 
not,  for  near  five  hundred  years,  any  knowledge,  either  of  the  fosse 
and  glacis  of  a  city,  or  of  the  entrenchment  and  palisade  of  a  camp. 
When  stormed  by  Brennus,  defeated  by  Pyrrhus,  or  overwhelmed 
by  Hannibal,  the  citizens  of  Rome,  despairing  of  its  safety,  fled 
either  to  the  rock  of  the  Capital,  or  to  the  mountains,  which  sur- 
rounded it.  The  Romans  gained  their  first  knowledge  of  intrench- 
ment  from  the  conquered  camp  of  the  Grecian  hero,  Pyrrhus. 


PART  III. 


ODES    AND    SONGS. 


ODES  AND  SONGS.  243 

ODE. 

RISE  COLUMBIA. 

Written  for,  and  sung  at  the  first  Anniversary  of  the  Massachusetts 
Charitable  Fire  Society,  1794. 

W  HEN  first  the  Sun  o'er  Ocean  glowed, 

And  Earth  unveiled  her  virgin  breast, 
Supreme  mid  Nature's  vast  abode, 

Was  heard  the  Almighty's  dread  behest : 
Rise,  Columbia,  brave  and  free, 
Poise  the  Globe,  and  bound  the  Sea ! 

In  darkness  wrapped,  with  fetters  chained, 

Will  ages  grope,  debased  and  blind ; 
'With  blood  the  human  hand  be  stained, 

With  tyrant  power,  the  -human  mind. 
Rise,  Columbia,  &c. 

But,  lo,  across  the  Atlantick  floods, 

The  Star-directed  pilgrim  sails  ! 
See  !  felled  by  Commerce,  float  thy  woods ; 

And,  clothed  by  Ceres,  wave  thy  vales  ! 
Rise,  Columbia,  &c. 

Remote  from  realms  of  rival  fame, 

Thy  bulwark  is  thy  mound  of  waves  ; 
The  Sea,  thy  birth-right,  Thou  must  claim, 

Or,  subject,  yield  the  soil  it  laves. 
Rise,  Columbia,  &c. 


244  ODES  AND  SONGS. 

Nor  yet,  though  skilled,  delight  in  arms ; 

Peace  and,  her  offspring,  arts  be  thine  ; 
The  face  of  Freedom  scarce  has  charms, 

When  on  her  cheeks  no  dimples  shine. 
Rise,  Columbia,  Sec. 

*.*      ."  :   ' 

While  Fame  for  thee,  her  wreath  entwines, 
To  bless,  thy  nobler  triumph  prove  ; 

And,  though  the  eagle  haunts  thy  pines, 
Beneath  thy  willows  shield  the  dove. 
Rise,  Columbia,  &c. 

When  bolts  the  flame,  or  whelms  the  wave, 
Be  thine  to  rule  the  wayward  hour  ! 

Bid  Death  unbar  the  watery  grave, 

"And  Vulcan  yield  to  Neptune's  power." 
Rise,  Columbia,  &c. 

Revered  in  arms,  in  peace  humane, 

No  shore,  nor  realm  shall  bound  thy  sway ; 
While  all  the  virtues  own  thy  reign, 
And  subject  elements  obey ! 

Rise,  Columbia,  brave  and  free, 
Bless  the  Globe,  and  rule  the  sea. 


ODES  AND  SONGS.  245 


ODE. 


ADAMS  AND  LIBERTY. 

Written  for,  and  sung  at  the  fourth  Anniversary  of  the  Massachusetts 
Charitable  Fire  Society,  1798. 


YE  sons  of  Columbia,  who  bravely  have  fought, 
For  those  rights,  which   unstained  from  your  Sires  had 

descended, 

May  you  long  taste  the  blessings  your  valour  has  bought, 
And  your  sons  reap  the  soil  which  their  fathers  defended. 
'Mid  the  reign  of  mild  Peace, 
May  your  nation  increase, 

With  the  glory  of  Rome,  and  the  wisdom  of  Greece  ; 
And  ne'er  shall  the  sons  of  Columbia  be  slaves, 
While  the  earth  bears  a  plant,  or  the  sea  rolls  its  waves. 

In  a  clime,  whose  rich  vales  feed  the  marts  of  the  world, 
Whose  shores  are  unshaken  by  Europe's  commotion, 
The  trident  of  Commerce  should  never  be  hurled, 
To  incense  the  legitimate  powers  of  the  ocean. 
But  should  pirates  invade, 
Though  in  thunder  arrayed, 
Let  your  cannon  declare  the  free  charter  of  trade. 
For  ne'er  shall  the  sons,  &c. 

The  fame  of  our  arms,  of  our  laws  the  mild  sway, 

Had  justly  ennobled  our  nation  in  story, 
'Till  the  dark  clouds  of  faction  obscured  our  young  day. 

And  enveloped  the  sun  of  American  glory. 


246  ODES  AND  SONGS. 

But  let  traitors  be  told, 
Who  their  country  have  sold, 
And  bartered  their  God  for  his  image  in  gold, 
That  ne'er  will  the  sons,  &c. 

While  France  her  huge  limbs  bathes  recumbent  in  blood, 

And  Society's  base  threats  with  wide  dissolution  ; 
May  Peace  like  the  dove,  who  returned  from  the  flood, 
Find  an  ark  of  abode  in  our  mild  constitution. 
But  though  Peace  is  our  aim, 
Yet  the  boon  we  disclaim, 
If  bought  by  our  Sov'reignty,  Justice  or  Fame. 
For  ne'er  shall  the  sons,  &c. 

'Tis  the  fire  of  the  flint,  each  American  warms ; 

Let  Rome's  haughty  victors  beware  of  collision, 
Let  them  bring  all  the  vassals  of  Europe  in  arms, 
We're  a  world  by  ourselves,  and  disdain  a  division. 
While  with  patriot  pride, 
To  our  laws  we're  allied, 
No  foe  can  subdue  us,  no  faction  divide. 
For  ne'er  shall  the  sons,  Sec. 

Our  mountains  are  crowned  with  imperial  oak  ; 

Whose  roots,  like  our  liberties,  ages  have  nourished ; 
But  long  e'er  our  nation  submits  to  the  yoke, 

Not  a  .tree  shall  be  left  on  the  field  where  it  flourished. 
Should  invasion  impend, 
Every  grove  would  descend, 

From  the  hill -tops,  they  shaded,  our  shores  to  defend. 
For  ne'er  shall  the  sons,  &c. 


ODES  AND  SONGS.  247 

Let  our  patriots  destroy  Anarch's  pestilent  worm  ; 

Lest  our  Liberty's  growth  should  be  checked  by  corrosion  ; 
Then  let  clouds  thicken  round  us ;  we  heed  not  the  storm  ; 
Our  realm  fears  no  shock,  but  the  earth's  own  explosion. 
Foes  assail  us  in  vain, 
Though  their  fleets  bridge  the  main, 
For  our  altars  and  laws  with  our  lives  we'll  maintain. 
For  ne'er  shall  the  sons,  kc. 

Should  the  Tempest  of  War  overshadow  our  land, 

Its  bolts  could  ne'er  rend  Freedom's  temple  asunder ; 
For,  unmoved,  at  its  portal,  would  Washington  stand, 

And  repulse,  with  his  Breast,  the  assaults  of  the  thunder  1 
His  sword,  from  the  sleep 
Of  its  scabbard  would  leap, 

And  conduct,  with  its  point,  ev'ry  flash  to  the  deep  ! 
For  ne'er  shall  the  sons,  &c. 

Let  Fame  to  the  world  sound  America's  voice  ; 

No  intrigues  can  her  sons  from  their  government  sever ; 
Her  pride  is  her  Adams  ;  her  laws  are  his  choice, 
And  shall  flourish,  till  Liberty  slumbers  for  ever. 
Then  unite  heart  and  hand, 
Like  Leonidas'  band, 

And  swear  to  the  God  of  the  ocean  and  land ; 
That  ne'er  shall  the  sons  of  Columbia  be  slaves, 
While  the  earth  bears  a  plant,  or  the  sea  rolls  its  waves, 


248  ODES  AND  SONGS. 


ODE. 


Written  for,  and  sung  at  the  fifteenth  Anniversary  of  the  Massa- 
chusetts Charitable  Fire  Society,  1809. 


GRAND    RECITATIVE. 

BLEAK  lowered  the  morn  ;  the  howling  snow-drift  blew  ; 

Rude  piles  of  devastation  smoked  around  ; 

While  houseless  Outcasts,  shivering  o'er  the  ground, 
Bade  the  sad  phantoms  of  their  Homes  adieu ; 

AIR. 
Ah  !  mouldering  wrecks  !  ye  flit  in  fearful  trance, 

And  the  vision  of  frenzy  recall, 
When  in  horror  we  leaped,  with  a  fugitive  glance, 

From  the  flames  of  yon  desolate  Wall ! 
See,  now,  with  blighting  melancholy  bare, 

Like  the  monument  stone  at  a  sepulchre  placed 

It  weeps  o'er  this  ruinous  waste, 
As  it  totters  and  rocks  in  the  air. 

In  vain,  sweet  pleading  Pity  calls ; 

Or  the  cry  of  shrill  Terror  appals  ; — 
Bending,  beetling,  crushing  o'er  the  crowded  way, 

Hark  !  it  cracks  !  see,  it  falls  ! 
And  wretches  forget  all  their  griefs  in  dismay. 

RECITATIVE. 

But  lo  !  along  its  crumbling  base, 
With  vacancy's  ecstatic  pace, 
All-reckless,  a  heart-broken  mourner  repair; 


ODES  ATSD  SONGS.  249 

Grief  has  reason  beguiled. 
And  with  melodies  wild, 
Invoking  her  child, 
She  wanders  like  Hope,  and  bewails  like  Despair. 

A  i  R— An  dan  te. 

My  Boy  beneath  this  ruin  lies  ! 
Lost  William !  hear  a  Mother's  sighs  ! 
Through  blasts  that  freeze,  and  paths  that  burn, 
Thy  tombless  dust  she  comes  to  urn. 
Now  I  thy  cherub  spirit  see  ! 
It  spreads  its  doating  arms  to  me  ! 
It  smiles  in  air !  while  piteous  grace 
Softens  the  sorrows  of  its  face. 
Vain  was  thy  Mother's  frantick  flight 
To  snatch  thee  from  the  Fiend  of  Night ! 
Thy  Couch,  alas  !  thy  funeral  pyre, 
Mid  shrieks  of  horror,  sunk  in  fire  ! 

ALLEGRO    FURIOSO. 

Now  to  clouds  of  purple  light, 

Where  William  sits,  I'll  steal  my  flight ! 

Cold  is  this  crazy  crust  of  clay, 

He  beckons  to  a  warmer  day  I 

Wealth  1  I'm  a  happier  wretch  than  you, 

And  laughing  bid  the  world,  Adieu  I 


32 


250  ODES  AND  SONGS. 


SONG. 


TO  ARMS,  COLUMBIA ! 


Written  for,  and  sung  at  the  Anniversary  of  the  Massachusetts 
Charitable  Fire  Society. 


Tune — "  HE  COMES  !  HE  COMES  ! 

J.  o  arms,  to  arms,  when  Honour  cries, 
Nor  shrink  the  brave,  nor  doubt  the  wise ; 
On  foes,  by  earth  and  Heaven  abhorred, 
'Tis  Godlike  to  unsheathe  the  sword ! 

To  arms,  Columbia  !  rule  thy  natal  sea, 
United,  triumph ;  and  resolved,  be  free. 

Columbia's  Eagle  soars  so  high, 
He  kens  the  sun  with  sovereign  eye ; 
Nor  cowers  his  wing,  when  tempests  pour, 
Nor  perches,  when  the  thunders  roar. 
To  arms,  Columbia,  &c. 

Like  Glory's  dazzling  bird  of  day, 
Our  realm  should  hold  imperial  sway ; 
Mid  clouds  and  light'nings  firmly  stand, 
Though  Faction's  earthquake  shake  the  land. 
To  arms,  Columbia,  Sec. 


ODES  AND  SONGS.  251 

Shall  Gallia  bid  our  oaks  descend, 
Her  rubrick  banner  to  defend  ? 
Enslave  those  forests,  reared  to  reign, 
The  future  monarchs  of  the  main  ? 
To  arms,  Columbia,  &c. 

Can  glow-worm  vie  with  noontide  Sun, 
Or  Lodi's  chief  with  Washington  ? 
Can  Earth  her  maniack  moon  obey, 
Or  Frenchmen  free  Columbians  sway  ? 
To  arms,  Columbia,  &c. 

Revenge  !  Revenge  !  The  flag's  unfurled  ! 
Let  Freedom's  cannon  wake  the  world, 
And  Ocean  gorge  on  pirates  slain, 
'Till  Truxton  Nelsonise  the  main ! 
To  arms,  Columbia,  &c. 

The  fate  of  nations  waits  the  hour, 

Foretold  to  end  the  serpent's  power ; 

When  fallen  realms  shall  break  their  trance, 

And  Adams  bruise  the  head  of  France. 

To  arms,  Columbia  !  rule  thy  natal  sea, 
United,  triumph  ;  and  resolved,  be  free. 


252  ODES  AND  SONGS. 


SONG. 
RULE  NEW-ENGLAND. 

Written  for,  and  sung  at  the  Anniversary  of  the  Massachusetts 
Charitable  Fire  Society,  May,  1802. 

VY  HAT  arm  a  sinking  State  can  save, 
From  Faction's  pyre,  or  Anarch's  grave  ? 
Pale  Liberty,  with  haggard  eyes, 
Looks  round  her  realm,  and  thus  replies, 

Rule  New-England  !  New-England  rules  and  saves  ! 

Columbians  never,  never  shall  be  slaves. 

New-England,  first  in  Freedom's  Van, 
To  toil  and  bleed  for  injured  man, 
Still  true  to  virtue,  dares  to  say, 
Order  is  Freedom — Man,  obey  ! 
Rule,  &c. 

Gloomed,  like  Cimmeria's  beamless  day, 
Our  realm  in  misted  error  lay, 
Delusion  drugged  a  nation's  veins ; 
And  Truth  was  philtered  in  her  chains. 
Rule,  Sec. 

'Twas  now  the  witching  time  of  night, 
When  grave  yards  yawn,  and  spectres  fright ; 


ODES  AND  SONGS.  253 


While  patriot  fiends,  with  daemon  glare, 
flash,  shriek  and  hurtle  in  the  air  ! 
Rule,  &c. 

Alone,  amid  the  coil  serene, 
New-England  stands,  and  braves  the  Scene, 
Majestic  as  she  lifts  her  eye, 
The  stars  appear — the  daemons  fly* 
Rule,  &c. 

At  length  the  dawn,  like  that,  which  first 
Upon  primeval  Chaos  burst, 
Athwart  our  clime  its  radiance  throws, 
And  blushes  at  the  wrecks,  it  shows. 
Rule,  Sec. 

Old  Massachusetts'  hundred  hills 
Awake  and  chaunt  the  matin  song ; 

A  realm's  acclaim  the  welkin  fills, 
The  federal  Sun  returns  with  Strong. 
Rise,  Sec. 

And  thou,  pale  orb  of  waning  light, 
Democracy,  thou  changeling  Moon, 

Art  doomed  to  wheel  thy  maniac  flight, 
Unseen  amid  the  cloudless  Noon; 
Rule,  &c, 


254  ODES  AND  SONGS. 

ODE. 

THE  STREET  WAS  A  RUIN. 

Written  for,  and  sung  at  the  Anniversary  of  the'Massachu setts  Chari- 
table Fire  Society,  June,  1804. 

1  HE  Street  was  a  Ruin,  and  Night's  horrid  glare 
Illumined  with  terror  the  face  of  Despair  ; 

While  houseless,  bewailing, 

Mute  Pity  assailing, 

A  Mother's  wild  shrieks  pierced  the  merciless  air, 
Beside  her  stood  Edward,  imploring  each  wind, 
To  wake  his  loved  sister,  who  lingered  behind ; 

Awake,  my  poor  Mary, 

Oh !  fly  to  me,  Mary ; 
In  the  arms  of  your  Edward,  a  pillow  you'll  find. 

In  vain  he  called,  for  now  the  volum'd  smoke, 
Crackling,  between  the  parting  rafters  broke ; 
Through  the  rent  seams  the  forked  flames  aspire, 
All,  all,  is  lost ;  the  roof's,  the  roof's  on  fire ! 

A  flash  from  the  window  brought  Mary  to  view, 

She  screamed  as  around  her  the  flames  fiercely  blew  ; 

Where  art  thou,  mother  I 

Oh !  fly  to  me,  brother  ! 
Ah  !  save  your  poor  Mary,  who  lives  but  for  you  ! 

Leave  not  poor  Mary, 

Ah  !  save  your  poor  Mary  1 


ODES  AND  SONGS.  255 


Her  visioned  form  descrying, 

On  wings  of  horror  flying, 

The  youth  erects  his  frantick  gaze, 

Then  plunges  in  the  maddening  blaze  ! 

Aloft  he  dauntless  soars, 

The  flaming  room  explores  ; 
The  roof  in  cinders  crushes, 
Through  tumbling  walls  he  rushes  ! 

She's  safe  from  Fear's  alarms ; 

She  faints  in  Edward's  arms ! 

Oh !  Nature,  such  thy  triumphs  are, 
Thy  simplest  child  can  bravely  dare. 


256  ODES  AND  SONGS. 

ODE. 
SPIRIT  OF  THE  VITAL  FLAME. 

Written  for,  and  sung  at  the  Anniversary  of  the  Humane  Society, 
May,  1804. 

Air.—* ADAGIO. 

O'ER  the  swift-flowing  stream,  as  the  tree  broke  in  air, 

Plunged  a  youth  in  the  tyrannous  wave  ; 
No  ear  heard  his  shriek ;  faint  with  toil  and  despair, 

He  sunk,  and  was  whelmed  in  his  grave  ! 

RECITATIVO. 

See,  Humanity's  angel  alights  on  the  scene ! 
Though  the  shadows  of  Death  have  dissembled  his  mien ; 
See,  his  corse  is  redeemed  from  the  Stream's  icy  bed, 
And  a  mother's  wild  grief  shrieks,  "Alas  1  he  is  dead  1" 

Air. LARGO  MAESTOSO. 

Spirit  of  the  Vital  Flame, 
Touch  with  life  his  marble  frame, 
From  the  day-star's  radiant  choir, 
Bring  thy  torch  of  quenchless  fire, 
And  bid  a  mother's  hope  respire  ! 

ALLEGRO. 

Hither,  sparkling  cherub,  fly  ! 
Mercy's  herald,  cleave  the  sky ! 


ODES  AND  SONGS.  257 


To  human  prayer,  benignant  Heaven 
The  salient  spring  of  life  has  given  ; 
And  Science,  while  her  eye  explores 
What  power  the  dormant  nerve  restores, 
Surveys  the  Godhead,  and  adores ; 
And  him,  the  first  of  Glory's  clan, 
Proclaims,  who  saves  a  fellow  man  ! 

MAESTOSO. 

Spirit  of  the  Vital  Flame  ! 
Touch  again  his  marble  frame  ! 
Bid  the  quivering  nerve  return, 
'Till  the  kindling  eye  discern 
A  mother's  tears  with  rapture  burn  ! 

ALLEGRO  ASSAI. 

Behold  the  quickening  Spirit  raise 

The  trembling  limb,  the  wandering  gaze  I 

Instinct  listens  !  Memoiy  wakes  ! 

Thought  from  cold  Extinction  breaks ; 
Reason,  motion,  frenzy,  fear, 
Religion's  triumph,  Nature's  tear, 
Almighty  Power,  thy  hand  is  here  1 


33 


ODES  AND  SONGS. 


ODE. 

Written  for,  and  sung  at  the  celebration  of  the  Artillery  Election, 
June  4,  1797. 

Tune— •«  THE  HERO  COMES." 

\VHEN  first  the  Mitre's  wrath  to  shun, 
Our  Grandsires  travelled  with  the  sun, 
Columbia's  wilds  they  sought  from  far, 
And  Freedom  shone  their  guiding  star. 

CHORUS. 

Seize  thy  clarion,  Fame, 
Let  the  Poles  proclaim, 
Each  illustrious  name, 

That  crossed  the  pathless  wave. 
Join,  ye  martial  throng, 
Fame's  immortal  song, 
Bid  the  chorus  roll  along, 
Long  live  the  brave. 

In  battle  brave,  in  council  wise, 
They  bade  the  school  of  Valour  rise, 
Whose  pupils  awed  the  astonished  world, 
And  Freedom's  sacred  flag  unfurled. 
CHORUS. 

Seize  thy  clarion,  Fame, 

Let  the  Poles  proclaim, 

Each  illustrious  name, 

That  bade  these  banners  wave. 

Join,  &c. 


ODES  AND  SONGS.  259 

While  o'er  our  fields,  with  havock  dyed, 
Bellona  rolled  her  crimsoned  tide, 
Like  Beauty's  lovely  goddess  rose 
Bright  Freedom  from  our  sea  of  woes. 
CHORUS. 

Seize  thy  clarion,  Fame, 

Let  the  Poles  proclaim, 

Every  hero's  name, 

That  dared  our  rights  to  save. 

Join,  &c. 

Well  skilled  to  guide  the  helm  of  state, 

Like  Howard  good,  like  Chatham  great, 
A  chief  was  ours  of  deathless  fame, 
And  Hancock  was  the  godlike  name. 

CHORUS. 

Seize  thy  clarion,  Fame, 
Let  the  Poles  proclaim, 
Hancock's  glorious  name, 

Whose  soul  disdained  the  slave. 
Join,  Sec.  * 

Columbia  wept ;  the  Virtues  sighed, 

And  Freedom  mourned  when  Hancock  died  j 
While  choirs  of  seraphs  sung  on  high, 
He's  welcome  to  his  native  sky. 

CHORUS. 

Seize  thy  clarion,  Fame, 
Let  the  Poles  proclaim, 
Hancock's  deathless  name, 

Has  triumphed  o'er  the  grave. 
Join,  &c. 


26O  ODES  AND  SONGS. 

To  arms  !  to  arms  !  when  Freedom  calls, 
No  pang  the  hero's  breast  appals  ; 

But  when  the  trumpet's  clangours  cease, 
Let  Virtue  tune  the  lute  of  Peace. 

CHORUS. 

Seize  thy  clarion,  Fame, 
Let  the  Poles  proclaim, 
Freedom's  glorious  flame 

Shall  soon  inspire  the  slave. 
Join,  ye  martial  throng, 
Fame's  immortal  song, 
Bid  the  chorus  roll  along, 

Long  live  the  brave. 


ODES  AND  SONGS,  261 


SONG. 


THE  YEOMEN  OF  HAMPSHIRE. 


Written  for,  and  sung  at  the  celebration  of  the  Artillery  Election, 
June  4,  1801. 


Tune— ."ADAMS  AND  LIBERTY." 

1  o  the  shades  of  our  ancestors  loud  is  the  praise, 

That  descends  with  their  deeds,  and  inspires  by  reaction  ! 
To  the  heirs  of  their  glory  the  paean  we  raise, 

The  "  Yeomen  of  Hampshire,"  the  Victors  of  Faction  ; 
Be  theirs  the  proud  tale, 
That  though  Anarch  assail, 
Each  ploughman  still  sings  to  the  Stream  of  his  Vale. 

CHORUS. 

.  Roll  on  loved  Connecticut,  long  hast  thou  ran, 
Giving  blossoms  to  Nature,  and  morals  to  Man. 

Where'er  thy  rich  waters  erratick  display 

Thy  deluge  of  plenty,  like  Nile,  overflooding ; 
The  Mind  and  the  Season  thy  impulse  obey, 
And  patriot  Virtue  and  Spring  are  in  budding ; 
While  each  leaf,  as  it  shoots, 
With  its  promise  of  fruits, 
Proclaims  the  thrift  moisture,  that  cultures  its  roots. 


262  ODES  AND  SONGS. 

CHORUS. 

Roll  on  loved  Connecticut,  long  hast  thou  ran, 
Giving  blossoms  to  Nature,  and  morals  to  Man. 

Through  the  vallies  of  Hampshire,  bright  Order's  abode, 

Thou  lovest  in  gay  circles  to  range  and  to  wander  ; 
While  pleased  with  thy  empire,  to  lengthen  the  road, 
Thou  givest  to  thy  channel  another  meander ; 
And  when  on  the  way, 
Near  Northampton  you  stray, 
How  slow  moves  thy  current  its  homage  to  pay  ! 

CHORUS. 

Roll  on  loved  Connecticut,  long  hast  thou  ran, 
Giving  blossoms  to  Nature,  and  morals  to  Man. 

Again  flow  thy  stream,  as  sublimely  it  rolled, 

In  triumph  effulgent,  from  Freedom  reflected ; 
On  that  festival  day,  when  Old  Anarch  was  told, 

That  his  arts  had  been  foiled,  and  his  Foe  was  elected ; 
When  thy  bright  waves  along, 
Reechoed  the  song, 
To  the  Christian,  the  Statesman,  the  Patriot  STRONG  ; 

CHORUS. 

Whose  course  loved  Connecticut  like  thine,  has  ran 
To  cultivate  Nature,  and  moralise  Man. 


ODES  AND  SONGS.  263 


MASONICK  ODE. 


Written  for,  and'sung  at  the  Anniversary  of  the  Massachusetts  Lodge, 
on  the  visitation  of  the  Grand  Lodge,  1796. 


Minstrel,  who  to  mortal  ears 
Canst  tell  the  Art,  which  guides  the  spheres. 

Blest  Masonry,  all  hail ! 
With  Nature's  birth  thy  laws  began, 
To  rule  on  earth  fraternal  man, 

And  still  in  Heaven  prevail. 

O'er  Matter's  modes  thy  mystick  sway 
Can  fashion  Chaos'  devious  way, 
^  To  Order's  lucid  maze  ; 
Can  rear  the  cloud-assaulting  tower, 
And  bid  the  worm,  that  breathes  its  hour, 
Its  humble  palace  raise. 

From  nascent  life  to  Being's  pride, 
The  surest  boon  thy  laws  provide 

When  wayward  fate  beguiles  : 
The  tears,  thou  shed'st  for  human  woe, 
In  falling  shine,  like  Iris'  bow, 

And  beam  an  arch  of  smiles. 


264  ODES  AND  SONGS. 

Come,  priest  of  Science,  truth  arrayed, 
And  with  thee  bring  each  tuneful  maid, 

Thou  lov'st  on  Shinar's  plain ; 
Revive  Creation's  primal  plan, 
Subdue  this  wilderness  of  man, 

Bid  social  Virtue  reign ! 


ODES  AND  SONGS.  265 


ODE. 


Written  for,  and  sung  at  the  Anniversary  of  the  Sons  of  the  Pilgrims, 
December  22,  1800. 


Tune. — "  PRESIDENT'S  MARCH." 

TAINTED  shades  !  who  dared  to  brave, 
In  Freedom's  ark,  the  pathless  wave, 
Where,  scarcely  kenned  by  lynx-eyed  fame, 
No  traveller  but  the  Comet  came, 
And  driven  by  Tempest's  ravening  blast, 
Were  wrecked  upon  our  wilds  at  last ; 
How  rose  your  faith,  when  through  the  storm 
Smiled  Liberty's  celestial  form, 
Her  lyre  to  strains  of  seraphs  strung, 
And  thus  the  sacred  paean  sung  : 
CHORUS. 

Sons  of  Glory,  patriot  band, 

Welcome  to  my  chosen  land ! 

To  your  children  leave  it  free, 

Or  a  desert  let  it  be. 

Round  the  consecrated  rock, 
Convened  the  patriarchal  flock, 
And  there,  while  every  lifted  hand 
Affirmed  the  charter  of  the  land, 
The  storm  was  hushed,  and  round  the  zone 
Of  Heaven,  the  mystick  meteor  shone, 
34 


266  ODES  AND  SONGS. 

Which,  like  the  rainbow,  seen  of  yore, 
Proclaimed  that  Slavery's  flood  was  o'er, 
That  pilgrim  man,  so  long  oppressed, 
Had  found  his  promised  place  of  rest. 
Sons  of  Glory,  &c. 

Festive  honours  crown  the  day, 
With  garlands  green  and  votive  lay, 
From  whose  auspicious  dawn  we  trace 
The  birth-right  of  our  favoured  race, 
Which  shall  descend  from  sire  to  son, 
While  seasons  roll,  and  rivers  run  ; 
Till  Faction's  cankerous  tooth  devour 
Of  fatuate  man  each  virtuous  power ; 
Till  dark  intrigue  our  empire  guides, 
And  patriot  worth  no  more  presides  ! 
Sons  of  Glory,  Sec. 

Heirs  of  pilgrims,  now  renew 
The  oath  your  fathers  swore  for  you, 
When  first  around  the  social  board, 
Enriched  from  Nature's  frugal  hoard, 
The  ardent  vow  to  Heaven  they  breathed, 
To  shield  the  rights  their  Sires  bequeathed  ! 
Manes  of  Carver  !  Standish  !  hear ! 
To  love  the  soil,  you  gave,  we  swear ; 
And  midst  the  storms  of  state  be  true 
To  God,  our  country,  and  to  you. 
Sons  of  Glory,  8cc. 


ODES  AND  SONGS.  26JT 


SONG. 


THE  GREEN  MOUNTAIN  FARMER. 


Written  in  1798,  on  Washington's  accepting  the  command  of  the 
United  States  army. 


BLEST  on  his  own  paternal  farm ; 

Contented,  yet  acquiring ; 
Below  ambition's  gilded  charm, 

Yet  rich  beyond  desiring  ; 
The  hill-born  rustick,  hale  and  gay, 

Ere  prattling  swallows  sally, 
Or  ere  the  pine-top  spies  the  day, 
Sings  cheerly  through  his  valley ; 

CHORUS. 

Green  Mountains*  echo  Heaven's  decree  1 
Live  Adams,  Law  and  Liberty. 

With  love  and  plenty,  peace  and  health, 

Enriched  by  honest  labour, 
He  cheers  the  friend  of  humbler  wealth, 

Nor  courts  his  prouder  neighbour. 
At  eve,  returning  home,  he  meets, 

His  nut-brown  lass,  so  loving, 
And  still  his  constant  strain  repeats, 

Through  groves  and  meadows  roving. 


26$  ODES  AND  SONGS. 

CHORUS. 

Green  Mountains'  echo  Heaven's  decree 
Live  Adams,  Law  and  Liberty. 

Should  Faction's  wily  Serpent  spring 

With  treacherous  folds  to  intwine  him, 
Undaunted  by  his  venomed  sting, 

To  flames  he  would  consign  him ; 
The  hardy  yeoman,  like  the  Oak, 

That  shades  his  wood-land  border, 
Would  baffle  Anarch's  vengeful  stroke, 

And  shelter  Law  and  Order. 

CHORUS. 

Green  Mountains'  echo,  still  would  be  ! 
Live  Adams,  Law  and  Liberty. 

Should  hostile  fleets  our  shores  assail, 

By  home-bred  traitors  aided, 
No  free-born  hand  would  till  the  vale, 

By  slavery  degraded ; 
Each  youth  would  join  the  patriot  brave, 

To  die  proud  Freedom's  martyr* 
And  shed  his  latest  drop,  to  save 
His  country's  Glorious  Charter. 

CHORUS. 

Green  Mountains'  echo  then  would  be, 
Fight  on,  Fight  on  for  Liberty. 

But  hark  I  the  invading  foe  alarms, 

Responsive  cannons  rattle ; 
And  Washington,  again  in  arms, 

Directs  the  storm  of  battle, 


ODES  AND  SONGS.  269 

The  locust  swarm  of  Gallick  fiends 

He  sweeps  to  mid-way  ocean ; 
While  fame  the  vaulted  Ether  rends, 
With  conquest's  loud  commotion. 

CHORUS. 

Shout !  Shout !  Columbians,  Heaven's  decree ; 
'Tis  Washington  and  Victory ! 


270  ODES  AND  SONGS. 


ODE. 


Written  for,  and  sung  at  the  Anniversary  of  the  Boston  Female  Asy- 
lum, September  24,  1802. 


&HALL  man,  stern  man,  'gainst  Heaven's  behest, 

His  cold,  unfeeling  pride  oppose  ! 
To  thankless  Wealth  unlock  his  breast, 

Yet  freeze  his  heart  to  Orphan's  woes. 
Weak  Casuist !  where  yon  thunder  broke  ! 

Seest  how  the  livid  light'ning  glares  ! 
Behold  !  it  rives  the  knotted  oak, 

But  still  the  humble  Myrtle  spares. 

Let  stoick  valour  boldly  brave, 

The  wars  and  elements  of  life  ! 
But,  more  like  Heaven,  who  stoops  to  save 

A  being,  sinking  in  the  strife  ; 
Poor  Exiles  !  wandering  o'er  this  sphere, 

Through  scenes,  of  which  you  form  no  part ; 
Loved  Orphan  girls  !  come  welcome  here, 

The  Asylum  of  the  human  heart. 

Sweet  Charity  !  thou  spright  benign, 

Who  oft  art  seen  in  Angel  form, 
To  point  the  sunbeam,  where  to  shine, 

Or  rein  the  coursers  of  the  storm  ! 


ODES  AND  SONGS.  271 

Oh  !  through  yon  dark  and  dripping  cell, 
Where  Sorrow's  out-cast  offspring  weep, 

Flash,  as  when  Peter's  fetters  fell, 

And  bid  the  woes,  that  guard  them,  sleep  ! 

Warmed  by  thy  beams,  the  frost  unkind, 

Which  blasts  sweet  woman's  vernal  years, 
In  dew  exhaled,  shall  leave  behind 

Pure  Gratitude's  unsullied  tears  I 
So  shall  our  Orphan  girls  no  more, 

Lament  the  untimely  blight  of  woe  ; 
But  reared  to  virtue,  thrice  restore 

To  generous  man  the  debt,  they  owe. 

Blest  Providence  !  whose  parent  power 

All  being  gives,  for  all  provides ; 
Co-equal,  when  it  blooms  the  flower, 

As  when  it  curbs  old  Ocean's  tides  ! 
See,  lorn  and  piteous,  at  thy  throne, 

Love,  Mercy,  Hope  and  Homage  sue ; 
They  weep  for  sorrows,  not  their  own, 

They  bend,  dear  Orphan  girls,  for  you  ! 


ODES  AND  SONGS. 


ODE. 


Written  tor,  and  sung  at  the  Anniversary  of  the  American  Indepen- 
dence, July  4,  1806. 


Tune — "  WHILST  HAPPY  IN  MY  NATIVE  LAND." 

VV  IDE  o'er  the  wilderness  of  waves, 

Untracked  by  human  peril, 
Our  fathers  roamed  for  peaceful  graves, 

To  deserts  dark  and  sterile. 
No  parting  pang,  no  long  adieu 

Delayed  their  gallant  daring ; 
With  them,  their  Gods  and  Country  too, 

Their  pilgrim  keels  were  bearing. 
All  hearts  unite  the  patriot  band, 

Be  liberty  our  natal  land. 

Their  dauntless^earts  no  meteor  led, 

In  terrour  o'er  the  ocean ; 
From  fortune  and  from  man  they  fled, 

To  Heaven  and  its  devotion. 
Fate  cannot  bend  the  high  born  mind 

To  bigot  usurpation : 
They,  who  had  left  a  world  behind, 

Now  gave  that  world  a  nation. 


ODES  AND  SONGS.  273 

f  The  soil  to  till,  to  freight  the  sea, 

By  valour's  arm  protected, 
To  plant  an  empire  brave  and  free, 

Their  sacred  views  directed : 
But  more  they  feared,  than  tyrant's  yoke, 

Insidious  faction's  fury ; 
For  oft  a  worm  destroys  an  oak, 

Whose  leaf  that  worm  would  bury. 

Thus  reared,  our  giant  realm  arose, 

And  claimed  our  sovereign  charter : 
Her  life-blood  warm  from  Adams  rose, 

And  all  her  sons  from  Sfiarta. 
Be  free,  Columbia  !  proudest  name 

Fame's  herald  wafts  in  story : 
Be  free,  thou  youngest  child  of  Fame, 

Rule,  brightest  heir  of  Glory  ! 

Thy  Preble,  mid  the  battle's  ire, 

Hath  Africk's  towers  dejected  ; 
And  Lybia's  sands  have  flashed  with  fire, 

From  Eaton's  sword  reflected. 
Thy  groves,  which  erst  the  hill  or  plain 

Entrenched  from  savage  plunder, 
To  Naiads  turned,  must  cleave  the  main, 

And  sport  with  Neptune's  thunder. 


35 


274  ODES  AND  SONGS. 


ODE. 


Written  for,  and  sung  at  the  Anniversary  of  the  American  Inde- 
pendence, July  4, 1810. 


HAIL  !  Hail,  ye  patriot  spirits  ! 

Ye  chiefs  of  valiant  deed  1 
To  war-scarred  bosoms  point  no  more, 

Your  wounds  no  longer  bleed. 
Oh  I  ever  bless  the  festal  shrine 

Your  hovering  shades  explore  ! 
While  laurel-crowned,  ye  glide  around, 

And  the  Seraph  Anthem  pour- 
It  is  our  country's  natal  day, 

We  hail  it  and  adore ! 

High  o'er  the  rock  of  ages, 

See  Independence  stride, 
Her  shield  she  stretches  o'er  the  vale, 

Her  spear  across  the  tide. 
The  harvests  of  her  teeming  soil, 

She  bids  the  waves  expand, 
Though  tempest  roars,  around  her  shores, 

It  dies  along  her  strand ; 
For  the  arm,  that  can  the  plough  direct, 

The  trident  can  command. 


ODES  AND  SONGS.  275 

The  storm,  that  rent  her  forests 

A  thousand  ages  past, 
Now  sweeps  their  branches  as  they  fly 

Along  the  ocean  blast. 
Through  every  clime  her  banners  float, 

And  greet  the  Northern  Wane, 
Where  dimly  bright,  with  wheeling  light, 

He  pales  the  freezing  plain ; 
And  sees  new  Stars  beneath  the  pole. 

New  Pleiads  on  the  main. 

The  Sea  is  valour's  charter, 

A  nation's  wealthiest  mine : 
His  foaming  caves  when  ocean  bares, 

Not  pearls,  but  heroes  shine ; 
Aloft  they  mount  the  midnight  surge, 

Where  shipwrecked  spirits  roam, 
And  oft  the  knell,  is  heard  to  swell, 

Where  bursting  billows  foam. 
Each  storm  a  race  of  heroes  rears, 

To  guard  their  native  home. 

But  not  the  storm,  that  courses 

The  mountain  and  the  deep, 
Like  Rapine's  secret,  whirling  pool, 

With  tyrant,  power  can  sweep : 
Th'  Imperial  Gulf  can  whelm  the  keel, 

Which  tempests  proudly  bore  ; 
In  smooth  serene,  it  glides  unseen, 

Till  all  its  caverns  roar ; 
Till  all  its  hidden  ledges  crash, 

And  all  its  whirlwinds  pour, 


276  ODES  AND  SONGS. 

Rise,  man's  immortal  spirit, 

Stern  Independence,  rise ; 
Mid  wrecks,  that  choak  the  pirate's  cave, 

Your  tattered  banner  lies. 
In  fierce  Napoleon's  midnight  cells 

Your  gallant  sailor  grieves  ; 
In  chains  he  lies,  and  wistful  sighs 

Towards  his  country  heaves. 
Rise  Independence,  wear  thy  crown, 

Or  strip  its  oaken  leaves. 


ODES  AND  SONGS.  277 


ODE. 


Written  for,  and  sung  at  the  Anniversary  of  the  American  Inde- 
pendence, July  4, 1811. 


Tune-—"  BATTLE    OF    THE    NILE." 


patriot  pride  our  patriot  triumph  wake  ! 
The  Jubilee  of  Freedom  relumes  a  Nation's  soul  ! 
On  land,  or  main,  no  right  of  realm  forsake. 

Though  warriour  storms,  like  ocean  tempests,  roll. 
Spread  your  banners,  let  Commerce,  Industry  directing, 
Mantle  the  waves,  by  courage,  Wealth  protecting  ! 

And  new  honours  while  we  pay 

To  our  Country's  Natal  Day, 

Let  us  build  her  great  renown, 

From  a  soil  and  sea  our  own  ; 
For  Commerce,  Agriculture,  Art  —  rewarded  shall  be  ! 

Huzza  !  Huzza  !  Huzza  !  Huzza  !  Huzza  ! 

Heaven  gave  to  Man  the  Charter  to  be  free. 

Huzza  !  Huzza  I  Huzza  !  Huzza  !  Huzza  ! 

Columbia  lives,  and  claims  the  great  decree. 

Arise  !  Arise  !  Columbia's  Sons,  Arise  ! 
Assert,  on  the  ocean,  your  Ocean's  sovereign  law  ; 


278  ODES  AND  SONGS. 

No  hostile  flag  shall  hover  in  your  skies  ; 
No  pirate  keep  your  mariners  in  awe. 
Be  the  rights  of  your  shores  by  Cannon  Law  expounded, 
And  your  waters  shall  be  safe,  where  hook  and  line  are  sounded. 

On  the  shoals  of  Newfoundland, 

Let  your  tars  and  boats  command, 

For  a  Mine  of  wealth  you  keep 

In  the  Bank  beneath  the  deep, 

Whose  Charter,  lawful  Charter,  is  renewed  by  every  sea, 
!  Huzza!  &c.  &c.  &c. 


If  equal  justice  neutral  laws  proclaim, 
No  power  will  presumptuous  your  sovereignty  disgrace  ; 

Among  your  Stars  inscribe  a  Nation's  name, 
Your  flag  will  guard,  your  freedom  and  your  race. 
Base  submission,  inviting  indignity  and  Plunder, 
Like  a  worm,  kills  an  Oak,  which  should  have  braved  the 

thunder. 

Though  beneath  the  rifting  ball, 
Should  the  mountain  monarch  fall, 
Still  in  majesty  he  reigns, 
And,  though  prostrate,  rules  the  plains  ; 
And  scions,  blooming  scions,  spring,  to  renovate  the  tree. 
Huzza  !  Huzza  !  &c.  &c.  &c. 

Arouse  !  Arouse  !  Columbia's  Sons,  Arouse  ! 
And  burst  through  the  slumber  of  faction-dreaming  fears  ; 

Bid  Cannons  shake  the  tempests  from  your  brows, 
And  the  clouds  shall  echo  glory  on  your  ears. 
When  the  trumpet  of  Victory,  Independence  claiming, 
Swelled  o'er  your  hills,  from  fields  in  battle  flaming  ; 


ODES  AND  SONGS.  279 

When  the  Freedom  of  the  land, 
By  your  Patriotick  Band, 
To  this  Temple  was  consigned, 
'Twas  with  Washington  enshrined, 

That  the  Charter,  sacred  Charter,  there,  immortal  should  be. 
Huzza  I  Huzza  !  &c.  Sec.  &c. 


280  ODES  AND  SONGS. 


ODE. 


Written  for,  and  sung  at  the  Anniversary  of  the  Fausaus  Association, 
October  3, 1809.  / 

f 

Tune — " ADAMS  AND  LIBERTY." 

ON  the  tent-plains  of  Shinah,  Truth's  mystical  clime, 

When  the  impious  turret  of  Babel  was  shattered, 
Lest  the  tracks  of  our  race,  in  the  sand-rift  of  Time, 

Should  be  buried,  when  Shem,  Ham  and  Japheth  were 
scattered, 

Rose  the  genius  of  Art, 
Man  to  man  to  impart, 
By  a  language,  that  speaks,  through  the  eye,  to  the  heart. 

CHORUS. 

Yet  rude  was  Invention,  when  Art  she  revealed, 
For  a  block  stamped  the  page,  and  a  tree  ploughed  the  field. 

As  Time  swept  his  pennons,  Art  sighed,  as  she  viewed 

How  dim  was  the  image,  her  emblem  reflected ; 
When,  inspired,  father  Faust  broke  her  table  of  wood, 
Wrought  its  parts  into  shape,  and  the  whole  reconnected, 
Art  with  Mind  now  could  rove, 
For  her  symbols  could  move, 
Ever  casting  new  shades,  like  the  leaves  of  a  grove. 


ODES  AND  SONGS.  281 


CHORUS. 

And  the  colours  of  Thought  in  their  elements  run, 
As  the  prismatick  glass  shows  the  hues  of  the  Sun. 

In  the  morn  of  the  West,  as  the  light  rolled  away 

From  the  grey  eve  of  regions,  by  bigotry  clouded, 
With  the  dawn  woke  our  Franklin,  and,  glancing  the  day, 
Turned  its  beams  through  the  mist,  with  which  Art  was 
enshrouded; 

To  kindle  her  shrine, 
His  Promethean  line 
Drew  a  spark  from  the  clouds,  and  made  Printing  divine  I 

CHORUS. 

When  the  fire  by  his  rod  was  attracted  from  Heaven, 
Its  flash  by  the  type,  his  conductor,  was  given. 

Ancient  Wisdom  may  boast  of  the  spice  and  the  weed, 

Which  embalmed  the  cold  forms  of  its  heroes  and  sages ; 
But  their  fame  lives  alone  on  the  leaf  of  the  reed, 

Which  has  grown  through  the  clefts  in  the  ruins  of  ages ; 
Could  they  rise,  they  would  shed, 
Like  Cicero's  head, 
Tears  of  blood  on  the  spot,  where  the  world  they  had  led. 

CHORUS. 
Of  Pompey  and  Ceser  unknown  is  the  tomb, 

But  the  type  is  their  forum,  the  page  is  their  Rome. 

Blest  genius  of  Type  !  down  the  vista  of  time 

As  thy  flight  leaves  behind  thee  this  vexed  generation, 

Oh !  transmit  on  thy  scroll,  this  bequest  from  our  clime^ 
The  Press  can  cement,  or  dismember  a  nation. 
36 


282  ODES  AND  SONGS. 

Be  thy  temple  the  mind  ! 

There,  like  Vesta,  enshrined, 
Watch  and  foster  the  flame,  which  inspires  human  kind 

CHORUS. 

Preserving  all  arts,  may  all  arts  cherish  thee  ; 
And  thy  science  and  virtue  teach  man  to  be  free  ! 


The  following  explanatory  notice  of  this  Ode  is  extracted  from  the  Port 
Folio. 

In  this  Ode,  the  great  stages  of  the  art  are  poetically  described  in  the  three  first 
verses;  to  each  of  which  there  is  an  appropriate  chorus.  Printing  upon, 
blocks  with  immoveable types  was  invented  by  the  descendants  of  Noah,  "on 
the  tent-plains  of  Shinah,"  and  was  nearly  coeval  with  the  first  rude  assays  at 
agriculture.  But  the  art  remained  in  this  state  of  imperfection,  till  "father 
Faust  broke  her  tablet  of  wood,"  and  invented  the  moveable  type.  In  succeed- 
ing generations  the  art  received  various  improvements,  prior  to  the  era  of 
Franklin,  who  first  united  the  genius  of  philosophy  to  the  art  of  the  mechanic. 
How  would  Antiquity  "  hide  her  diminished  head,"  could  she  "burst  her 
cearments,"  and  survey  the  comforts  and  elegances,  which  flow  from  the  art 
and  science  of  modern  life  ?  Her  heroes  and  sages  would  shed 

"  Tears  of  blood  on  the  spot  where  the  world  they  had  led," 
at  their  limited  means  of  greatness ;  but  they  would  with  holy  aspirations  bless 
the  "  genius  of  type,"  which  had  so  widely  diffused  their  glory  and  so  per- 
manently embalmed  their  fame. 

The  concluding  verse  impresses  a  salutary  lesson,  and  conveys  a  noble 
moral.  We  fervently  hope  that  neither  the  lesson,  nor  the  moral  will  pass 
unregarded  by  the  conductors  of  literary  and  political  Journals ;  for  they  stand 
at  the  fountains  of  publick  opinion  and  direct  the  course  of  its  torrents. 


ODES  AND  SONGS, 


283 


ODE. 


Written  for,  and  sung  at  the  Anniversary  of  the  General  Eaton  Fir« 
Society,  January  14,  1808. 


Tune—"  GOD  SAVE  THE  KING." 


JLJLEST  be  the  sacred  fire, 
Whose  beams  the  man  inspire, 

Panting  for  praise ! 
Renown  her  laurel  rears, 
Not  in  a  nation's  tears, 
Jut  in  the  Sun,  that  cheers 

Her  hero's  bays. 

In  Afric's  cells  confined, 
Columbia's  sons  had  pined, 

'Mid  hopeless  gloom: 
By  native  land  forgot, 
By  friend  "  remembered  not," 
They  delved  their  captive  spot, 

And  hailed  their  tomb  1 


284  ODES  AND  SONGS. 

Who,  for  the  brave,  could  feel  ? 
Who  warm,  with  patriot  zeal, 

Their  country's  veins  ? 
Eaton,  a  glorious  name  ! 
Struck,  from  the  flint  of  fame, 
A  spark,  whose  chymick  flame 

Dissolved  their  chains. 


H 


O'er  Lybia's  desert  sands, 
He  led  his  venturous  bands, 

Hovering  to  save ; 

Where  Fame  her  wings  ne'er  spread 
O'er  Alexander's  head, 
Where  Cato  bowed  and  bled 

On  glory's  grave. 

Though  earth  no  fountain  yield, 
Arabs  their  poignards  wield, 

Famine  appal ; 
Eaton  all  danger  braves, 
Fierce  while  the  battle  raves, 
Columbia's  Standard  waves, 

On  Derne's  proud  wall, 

Long  to  the  brave  be  given, 
The  best  reward  of  Heaven, 

On  earth  beneath  I 
His  country's  Spartan  pride, 
To  honest  fame  allied, 
No  serpent  e're  shall  glitfe 

Under  his  wreath, 


ODES  AND  SONGS. 

Blest  be  the  sacred  fire, 
Whose  beams  the  man  inspire, 

Panting  for  praise ! 
Renown  her  laurel  rears, 
Not  in  a  nation's  tears, 
But  in  the  Sun,  that  cheers 

Her  Hero's  bays. 


286  ODES  AND  SONGS. 


ODE. 


Written  for,  and  sung  at  the  Anniversary  of  the  Massachusetts  Asso- 
ciation, for  improving  the  breed  of  Horses,  October  21,  1811. 


Tune — «  TALLY  HO." 

JL  HE  Steeds  of  Apollo,  in  coursing  the  day, 

Breathe  the  fire,  which  he  beams  on  mankind  ; 
To  the  world  while  his  light  from  his  car  they  convey, 

Their  speed  is  the  blaze  of  his  mind. 
Thus  Ambition,  who  governs  of  honour  the  chace, 

Keeps  Life's  mettled  Coursers  in  glow  ; 
For  Fame  is  the  Gaol,  and  the  World  is  the  Race, 

And,  hark  forward  !  they  start !  Tally  ho  1 

All  ranks  try  the  turf;  'tis  the  contest  of  life, 

By  a  heat  to  achieve  a  renown  ; 
And  so  thronged  are  the  lists  in  the  emulous  strife, 

That  but  few  know  what  steed  is  their  own ; 
For  many,  like  Gilpin,  alarmed  at  the  blood, 

Lose  their  rein  and  their  course,  as  they  go  : 
While  the  Rider,  high  trained,  knows  each  pace  in  his  stud, 

And,  hark  forward  !  he  flies,  Tally  ho  1 

The  Hero's  a  War-horse,  whose  brave,  gen'rous  breed, 
Scorns  the  spur,  though  he  yields  to  the  rein  ; 

Blood  and  bone,  at  the  trump-call  he  vaults  in  full  speed^ 
And  contends  for  his  own  native  plain. 


ODES  AND  SONGS.  287 

In  battle  he  glories  ;  and  pants,  like  his  Sire, 

On  the  soil,  where  he  grazed,  to  lie  low  ; 
See  his  neck  clothed  with  thunder,  his  mane  flaked  with  fire, 

While,  hark  forward  !  he  springs,  Tally  ho  ! 

The  Statesman's  a  Prancer,  so  tender  in  hoof. 

He  curvets,  without  fleetness  or  force ; 
In  the  heat  of  the  field,  when  the  race  is  in  proof, 

He  gallantly  bolts  from  the  course  ! 
With  his  canter  and  amble,  he  shuffles  his  way  ; 

And  no  care  of  the  sport  seems  to  know  ; 
Till  he  sees,  as  he  hovers,  what  horse  wins  the  day, 

Then,  hark  forward !  he  shouts,  Tally  ho  ! 

The  Farmer's  a  draught,  the  rich  blood  of  whose  veins, 

Acts  with  vigour  the  duties,  he  owes  ; 
He's  a  horse  of  sound  bottom,  and  nurtures  the  plains 

Where  the  harvest,  that  nurtures  him,  grows. 
At  his  Country's  command,  on  her  hills  or  her  fields, 

Which  her  corn  and  her  laurels  bestow  ; 
Firm  in  danger  he  moves,  and  in  death  never  yields, 

But,  hark  forward !  he  falls,  Tally  ho  ! 

Columbia  is  drawn  by  the  Steeds  of  the  sky, 

The  long  journey  of  Empire  to  run  ; 
May  her  coursers  of  light  never  scorch  as  they  fly, 

And  their  race  be  the  age  of  the  Sun  ! 
Nor  distanced  by  Time,  nor  in  Fame  e'er  forgot, 

May  her  track  still  be  known  by  its  glow ; 
Like  Olympian  dust,  may  it  stream  o'er  the  spot, 

Where,  hark  forward ;  she  rode,  Tally  ho  ! 


288  ODES  AND  SONGS. 


ODE. 


SPAIN,  COMMERCE  AND  FREEDOM. 


Written  for,  and  sung  at  the  celebration  of  the  Spanish  Festival. 
January  24,  1809. 


the  trumpet  of  Fame  !  Swell  the  Paean  again  ! 
Religion  a  war  against  Tyranny  wages : 
From  her  couch  springs,  in  Armour,  Regenerate  Spain, 
Like  a  Giant,  refreshed  by  the  slumber  of  Ages  ! 
From  the  cell,  where  she  lay, 
She  leaps  in  array, 
Like  Ajax,  to  die  in  the  face  of  the  Day  : 

CHORUS. 

And  Swears,  from  pollution,  her  Empire  to  save, 
Her  Flag  and  her  Altars,  her  Home  and  her  Grave  ! 

In  the  land  of  her  Birth  she  rejoices  t&  find, 

From  her  old  race  of  Heroes,  a  young  generation, 
In  whose  souls  no  dismay  kills  the  nerve  of  the  mind, 
Who  gaze  upon  Death  with  devout  contemplation  ; 
Whose  Standard  on  high, 
Like  a  Comet,  will  fly  ; 
And  consume,  while  it  lightens,  its  neighbouring  sky  ! 


ODES  AND  SONGS.  289 

CHORUS. 

They  have  sworn  from  pollution  her  Empire  to  save, 
Her  Flag  and  her  Altars,  her  Home  and  her  Grave  ! 

O'er  her  hills,  see  the  Day-Star  of  Glory  advance  1 

Its  beams  warm  her  cliffs,  and  unfetter  her  fountains  1 
But,  a  pestilent  Planet,  it  blazes  on  France  ! 
A  Meteor  of  blood,  through  the  mist  of  the  Mountains ! 
Like  a  Dream  in  the  Air, 
See,  the  Pyrennees  glare  ! 
A  Castle  of  Fire,  on  a  Rock,  blear  and  bare  ! 

CHORUS. 

Its  flames  from  pollution  her  Empire  shall  save, 
Her  Flag  and  her  Altars,  her  Home  and  her  Grave  I 

Brave  Isle  of  the  Oak  !  On  thy  Patriarch  Tree, 

Science  blossoms,  where  Freedom  her  shelter  has  taken ! 
Earth  was  weighed  by  an  Acron  !  and  ruled  is  the  Sea  ! 
What  thy  Newton  had  balanced,  thy  Nelson  has  shaken  ! 
Trident  Queen  may'st  thou  reign, 
'Till  thy  thunder  regain 
The  rights  of  Mankind,  in  the  battles  of  Spain  ! 

CHORUS. 

'Till  her  Sword  from  pollution  her  Empire  shall  save, 
Her  Flag  and  her  Altars,  her  Home  and  her  Grave  ! 

Thy  Shield,  gallant  Britain  !  impends  from  the  sky," 
Like  the  Star  in  the  East,  on  the  Morn  of  Salvation  ! 

Through  the  dark  Empyrean  it  bursts  on  the  eye, 
The  Beacon  of  Man,  in  the  march  of  Creation  ! 


290  ODES  AND  SONGS. 

In  the  World's  sacred  War, 
Agincourt,  Trafalgar 
Thy  Steeds  deck  with  laurels,  and  herald  thy  Car  ! 

CHORUS. 

For  with  Spain  thou  hast  sworn  from  pollution  to  save, 
Thy  Flag  and  thy  Altars,  thy  Home  and  thy  Grave  ! 

Dear,  Natal  Columbia  !  Fair  Last-born  of  Time  ! 

May  the  Orphan  of  Fame  be  the  Heir  of  Dominion ; 
But,  the  Nest  of  thy  Eagle  looks  Bleak,  though  Sublime, 
On  a  Cliff,  where  each  Tempest  can  shatter  his  pinion  ! 
Round  an  Aerie  so  high; 
The  rude  whirlwinds  will  fly, 
Unless,  with  thy  Forests,  the  blast  thou  Defy  ! 

CHORUS. 

And  swear  from  pollution  like  Spain,  thou  wilt  save, 
Thy  Flag  and  thy  Altars,  thy  Home  and  thy  Grave  ! 

Oh  !  to  Spain,  let  thy  Gratitude  redolent  burn, 

First,  thy  Freedom  to  own  ;  First,  thy  Shores  to  discover  ! 
Hark  !  her  Patriots,  with  pride,  tell  the  Tyrant  they  spurn, 
That  the  New  World  she  found,  and  the  Old  will  recover  I 
For  Commerce  and  Thee  1 
She  unbosomed  the  Sea, 
And  demands  that  the  Gates  of  the  Ocean  be  Free  ! 

CHORUS. 

Then,  swear  from  pollution  like  Spain,  Thou  wilt  save, 
Thy  Flag  and  thy  Altars,  thy  Home  and  thy  Grave ! 

Bright  Day  of  the  World  !  dart  thy  lustre  afar ! 

Fire  the  North  with  thy  heat !    gild  the  South  with  thy 
splendor ! 


ODES  AND  SONGS.  291 

With  thy  glance  light  the  Torch  of  Redintegrant  War, 
Till  the  dismembered  Earth  effervesce  and  regender ! 

Through  each  zone  may'st  roll, 

'Till  thy  beams  at  the  Pole, 
Melt  Philosophy's  Ice  in  the  Sea  of  the  Soul ! 

CHORUS. 

'Till  Mankind  from  pollution  their  birth -right  shall  save : 
Their  Flag  and  their  Altars,  their  Home  and  their  Grave. 

Hail !  Spirit  of  Spain  !  mount  thy  Battlement-walls  ! 
With  thy  voice  shake  the  clouds  !  break  the  dream  of  sub- 
jection I 

Like  a  new-risen  Spectre,  thy  Helmet  appals  ! 
And  Pavia  Recoils  at  thy  Dread  Resurrection  ! 
Oh  !  may  France,  the  new  Rome, 
Never  destine  thy  doom, 
'Till  the  Pyrennees  sink,  and  thy  realm  is  a  Tomb ! 

CHORUS. 
i 

Rise  !  and  swear  from  pollution  thy  Empire  to  save  ! 
Let  thy  Flag  and  thy  Home  be  thy  God  and  thy  Grave  ! 


292  ELEGY. 


ELEGIAC  SONNET, 

INSCRIBED    TO    THE    MEMORY    O* 

M.  M.  HAYS,  Esq. 

t*. 
HERE  sleepest  thou,  Man  of  Soul !  Thy  spirit  flown, 

How  dark  and  tenantless  its  desert  clay  ! 
Cold  is  that  heart,  which  throbbed  at  sorrows  moan  ? 
Untuned  that  tongue,  which  charmed  the  social  day  ? 

Where  now  the  Wit,  by  generous  roughness  graced  ? 

Or  Friendship's  accent,  kindling  as  it  fell  ? 
Or  Bounty's  stealing  foot,  whose  step  untraced 

Had  watched  pale  Want,  and  stored  her  famished  cell  ? 

Alas,  'tis  all  thou  art !  whose  vigorous  mind 
Inspiring  force  to  Truth  and  Feeling  gave, 

Whose  rich  resources  equal  power  combined, 
The  gay  to  brighten,  and  instruct  the  grave  ! 

Farewell,  Adieu  !  Sweet  Peace  thy  vigils  keep  j 
For  Pilgrim  Virtue  sojourns  here  to  weep  ! 


ADDRESS.  293 


ADDRESS, 


Written  for  the  Carriers  of  the  Boston  Gazette,  January  1,  1802. 

AGAIN  the  Sun  his  fiery  steeds  has  driven, 

To  melt  with  day  the  clouds  of  nether  heaven. 

T'  Antarctic  skies  he  shoots  his  torrid  beams, 

And  bids  the  Naiads  bathe  in  polar  streams ; 

On  diamond  hills  of  ice,  unsunned  before, 

He  points  his  focus,  and  new  oceans  roar ; 

The  vast  suffusion  gushes  down  the  sides 

Of  mother  earth,  and  gives  St.  Pierre  his  tides ; 

While  floating  Glaciers  gem  the  torrent's  way, 

Exult  in  light,  and,  as  they  shine,  decay. 

Nations,  from  under  ground,  pop  out  their  heads, 

To  hail  the  spiral  morning  as  it  spreads  ; 

And  gaze  with  wonder,  (poor  benighted  souls  !) 

On  that  bright  orb,  which  Candles  gives  and  Coals. 

Each  Nymph,  with  furs  thrown  off,  her  face  discloses, 

To  breathe  an  air  that  does  not  bite  off  noses  ; 

And  leaves  a  six-month's  fire,  to  gather  roses ! 

While  nature,  all  alive,  with  Spring  bedight, 

Peals  her  hosannas  to  the  Power  of  Light. 

But  while  the  joys  of  polar  realms  and  tribes, 
The  newsboy  with  red-lettered  rhyme  describes, 
JTis  fit,  though  bards vand  beggars  love  to  roam, 
To  shoot  a  distich  at  great  folks  at  home. 


294  ADDRESS. 

And  here,  alas,  with  aching  heart  and  sad, 
His  Pegasus  must  needs  become  a  Pad ; 
For  sure  the  Muse  should  shuffle  in  her  gait, 
When  nought  but  thorough  pacing  suits  the  State. 

Who  to  the  clime  his  pliant  habit  forms, 
Has  boots  for  mire,  and  roquelaures  for  storms  ; 
But  the  news-pedlar,  bold  as  man  of  rhymes, 
Will  face  the  whirlwind,  and  will  cuff  the  times ! 

Unlike  the  scene,  which  erewhile  cheered  the  soul, 
But  which  we  left  behind  us  at  the  pole, 
Is  this  drear  season,  which,  of  life  bereft, 
Gives  up  to  Bankruptcy,  what  Anarch  left. 
Cold  to  the  patriot's  heart,  and  newsboy's  knuckles, 
Misfortune  on  our  backs  it  doubly  buckles ; 
In  trade's  great  toe  it  sticks  a  festering  splinter, 
And  gives  us  peace,  democracy  and  winter ; 
Threatens  a  frost,  to  freeze  our  current  cash, 
To  snap  our  crockery,  our  credit  smash ; 
With  banded  hordes  it  fills  our  publick  roads, 
Our  smoaking  streets  with  prostate  mansions  loads ; 
Frost-nips  the  banks,  internal  taxes  clips, 
Makes  carpenters  of  worms,  to  bore  our  ships  ; 
From  emigration  takes  off  all  its  shackles, 
And  a  Swiss  Dray-horse  in  state-harness  tackles ; 
Capacity  it  gives  to  every  rogue, 
And  finds  certificate  of  birth  in — brogue  ; 
Distinction  levels,  all  allegiance  blends, 
And  whisky  cits,  from  bogs,  to  congress  sends ; 
All  strangers  naturalizes — all  embraces, 
With  no  exception,  but  the  hue  of  faces ; 


ADDRESS.  295 

Felons  from  Newgate  'scaped,  and  vermined  straw, 

To  rail  at  feather-beds,  and  common  law ; 

Fools  with  long  ears,  who  bray,  when  Patriots  bawl, 

Or  knaves  transported — with  no  ears  at  all. 

But  while  to  vagrant  tribes  our  laws  are  kind, 

The  sable  sans-culottes  no  mercy  find ; 

Alas  !  how  moral,  how  humane,  the  times, 

When  Philosophs  compile  a  code  of  crimes ! 

A  deadly  sin  the  Negro's  breast  imbues, 

He  loves  the  female,  more  than  Mammoth  does  ; 

And  viler  still  to  him,  whose  pointer  nose 

Smells  not  a  poppy,  as  it  smells  a  rose  ; 

The  Negro,  formed  a  slave  from  Nature's  hands, 

*  Sweats  more  at  pores,  and  less  secretes  at  glands." 

Sad  and  reversed,  as  this  drear  scene  appears, 
There  are,  who  batten  on  a  Patriot's  tears ; 
But  still  on  them  the  same  privations  fall, 
The  Sun's  a  common  good,  and  cheers  us  all ; 
And  when  on  other  realms,  and  distant  skies, 
He  showers  that  radiance,  he  to  us  denies, 
The  "  eager  and  the  biting  air"  we  feel, 
May  chill  the  limbs,  but  nerves  the  heart  with  steel, 
For  poor  in  soul  is  he,  who  calm  can  view 
That  plastic  orb,  which  erst,  to  order  true, 
Th'  Ecliptic  path  in  equal  course  did  run, 
And  shone  the  civil,  like  the  natural  sun, 
Now  o'er  our  dark  horizon's  ridge  incline 
A  watery  lustre,  and  a  sloping  line  ; 
Beyond  th'  Equator  keep  his  rolling  throne, 
And  in  the  southern  solstice  shine  alone  ! 


296  JTO  MISS  F. 


The   following  lines  appeared  in  the   Centinel,  February, 
They  were    sent   to  a  beautiful  young  lady,  on    hearing  her 
express  a  wish  to  ascend  in  Blanchard's  Balloon. 


TO  MISS  F. 

Jc  ORBEAR,  sweet  girl ;  your  scheme  forego, 
And  thus  our  anxious  troubles  end : 

That  you  will  mount,  full  well  we  know, 
But  greatly  fear  you'll  not  descend. 

When  Angels  see  a  mortal  rise, 

So  beautiful,  divine  and  fair, 
They'll  not  dismiss  you  from  the  skies, 

But  keep  their  sister  Angel  there. 


To  the  above,  Mr.  Paine  soon  after  wrote  the  following  reply. 

JL  RUE,  gentle  bard,  should  lovely  Grace 

On  aeronautick  pinions  rise, 
Angels  would  own  their  "  Sister's"  face, 

Thrice  welcome  to  her  native  skies. 

But  conscious  should  the  nymph  remain, 
Earth's  loud  laments  would  rend  their  ears  : 

They'd  send  the  Heroine  down  again, 
To  sooth  and  bless  a  world  in  tears. 


PART  IV. 


PROSE  WRITINGS. 


AN 


ORATION, 


WRITTEN  AT  THE  REQUEST  OF  THE  YOUNG  MEN  OF  BOSTON, 
AND  DELIVERED,  JULY   17,   1799, 

IN  COMMEMORATION  OF   THE 

DISSOLUTION    OF 

THE  TREATIES  AND  CONSULAR  CONVENTION; 

BETWEEN  FRANCE  AND  THE  UNITED  STATES 

OF  AMERICA- 


ORATION. 


JL  HE  struggle  between  Liberty  and  Despotism,  Government 
and  Anarchy,  Religion  and  Atheism,  has  been  gloriously  de- 
cided. It  has  proved  the  victoiy  of  principle,  the  triumph  of 
virtue.  France  has  been  foiled,  and  America  is  free.  The 
elastick  veil  of  Gallick  perfidy  has  been  rent ;  the  mystick 
charm  of  diplomatick  policy  has  been  dissolved  ;  the  severing 
blow  has  been  struck ;  and  the  exulting  Ocean,  now  rolls  be- 
tween our  shores,  an  eternal  monument  of  our  separation. 

We  are  convened,  my  young  friends  and  fellow  citizens,  to 
commemorate,  at  a  disjunct  period,  the  first  glorious  anniver- 
sary of  that  eventful  day,*  when  our  national  Senate  and 
House  of  Representatives  declared  the  Treaties  and  Consular 
Convention,  which  had  hitherto  subsisted  between  the  United 
States  and  France,  should  be  no  longer  obligatory  on  the  Gov- 
ernment and  People  of  America.  It  is  a  day,  which  will  for- 

*  The  law  of  the  United  States,  dissolving  the  Treaties  and 
Consular  Convention  withFrance,  was  approved  by  the  President  on 
the  7th  of  July,  1798.  From  the  vicinity  of  this  day  to  our  National 
Anniversary,  and  other  causes,  this  event  was  celebrated  on  the 
17th.  This  anachronism  is  not  only  venial  in  itself,  but  is  also 
sanctioned  by  undeniable  precedent. 


302  ORATION. 

ever  be  illustrious  in  our  annals.  It  is  the  completion  of  our 
Liberties,  the  acme  of  our  Independence.  The  FOURTH  OF 
JULY  will  be  celebrated  by  our  latest  posterity,  as  the  splendid 
aera  of  our  national  glory ;  but  the  SEVENTH  will  be  venerated, 
as  the  dignified  epoch  of  our  national  character.  The  one, 
annihilated  our  colonial  submission  to  a  powerful,  avowed  and 
determined  foe.  The  other,  emancipated  us  from  the  oppres- 
sive friendship  of  an  ambitious,  malignant,  treacherous  ally. 
The  former  asserted  our  political  supremacy,  which  preserved 
to  us  our  country  from  subjection,  our  liberties  from  encroach- 
ment, and  our  government  from  foreign  control :  the  latter 
united  to  the  same  momentous  object  a  declaration  of  our 
moral  sovreignty,  which  rescued  our  principles  from  subju- 
gation, as  well  as  our  persons  from  slavery  ;  which  secured 
our  cities  from  massacre,  as  well  as  their  inhabitants  from 
debasement ;  which  preserved  our  fair  ones  from  violation, 
as  well  as  our  religion  from  bondage.  In  fine,  the  declaration 
of  Independence,  which  dissolved  our  connexion  with  Great 
Britain,  may  be  correctly  denominated  the  Birth  day  of  our 
nation,  when,  as  its  infant  genius  was  ushered  into  political 
existence,  a  lambent  flame  of  glory  played  around  its  brows, 
in  presage  of  its  future  greatness.  But  the  period,  which 
sundered  our  alliance  with  France,  may  be  pronounced  the 
day  of  our  nation's  manhood,  when  this  genius  had  become 
an  Hercules,  who,  no  longer  amused  with  the  coral  and  bells 
of  "  liberty  and  equality  ;"  no  longer 

"  Pleased  with  the  rattles,  tickled  with  the  straws," 


ORATION.  303 

of  "  health  and  fraternity  ;"  no  longer  willing  to  trifle  at  the 
distaff'  of  a  "  Lady  Negotiator,"  boldly  invested  himself  in 
the  toga  -virilisy  and  assumed  his  rank  in  the  forum  of  nations. 

It  will  therefore  in  all  ages  be  pointed  to,  as  a  luminous 
page  in  our  history,  when  the  patriotick  statesmen  of  Amer- 
ica, with  a  decision  of  character,  which  has  shot  a  ray  of  enthu- 
siasm into  the  coldest  regions  of  Europe,  cut  asunder  the 
inexplicable  knot  of  so  contagious  a  connexion,  and  forever 
abolished  the  impolitick  and  deleterious  instrument  which  had 
created  it :  when  that  memorable  Treaty,  which  had  linked 
together  two  heterogeneous  nations,  in  an  unnatural,  unequal, 
and  hateful  alliance,  after  an  attenuated  life  of  twenty  years,  was 
ignominiously  committed  to  the  grave,  where,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  French  philosophy,  "  its  death  will  prove  an  eternal 
sleep." 

That  this  was  a  measure  of  the  highest  prudence,  foresight 
and  necessity,  has  been  acknowledged  by  every  honest  Amer- 
ican, whose  political  intelligence  has  flowed  through  'any  other 
channel,  than  the'polluted  sewers  of  a  French  Consul's  Office. 
The  history  of  the  events,  which  compelled  the  dissolution  of 
our  national  intercourse  with  France,  is  a  history,  on  the  one 
part,  of  injury  accumulated  on  injury,  aggravated  by  insult 
following  upon  insult;  and  on  the  other,  of  the  dignified  policy, 
which  preferred  negociation  to  arms,  and  a  magnanimous 
forbearance  to  resent  or  retaliate,  while  there  remained  one 
rational,  one  manly  hope  of  an  honourable  accommodation: 


304  ORATION. 

The  crisis  soon  arrived,  when  to  be  silent  was  to  submit;  to 
submit  was  to  be  vandalized. 

France  had  formed  a  digest  of  piracy,  in  which  plunder, 
imprisonment  and  massacre  were  some  of  the  milder  penal- 
ties, denounced  by  the  Great  Nation.  Their  most  unprinci- 
pled and  abandoned  citizens,  who  had  nothing  to  lose,  but  a 
life,  which  was  a  burthen  to  themselves,  and  of  no  value  to 
their  country,  swarmed  the  ocean  in  predatory  hordes,  under 
the  seal  of  the  republick,  and  the  sanction  of  her  palm-itching 
ministers.  Our  commerce  was  at  this  period  the  carrier  of 
the  world.  For  five  years  preceding,  it  had  extended  in  a 
ratio  of  increase,  unparalleled  but  by  geometrical  progression. 
So  unexampled  in  any  former  time  was  its  prosperity  and  its 
wealth,  that  our  navigation  almost  monopolized  the  whole 
burthen  of  taxation.  Its  revenues  supplied  the  exigencies  of 
our  government,  and  its  peaceful  and  respected  flag  had  made 
the  harvests  of  all  climes  our  own. 

At  this  most  critical  period  of  the  present  contest  in  Europe, 
when  the  combined  armies  and  fleets  had  established  a 
I  Pojiilian  circle  round  the  territories  of  the  French  Republick, 
so  portentously  gloomy  and  eventful  was  the  aspect  of  her 
revolution,  that  had  not  the  officious  friendship  of  Americans, 
with  the  exuberant  productions  of  their  fertile  fields,  lavishly 
freighted  every  plant,  that  was  afloat  in  their  seas,  to  snatch 
from  famine  the  myrmidons  of  Robespierre,  and  to  pamper 
with  luxury  the  pimps  of  Marat,  our  humiliated  government 


ORATION.  305 

had  not  since  been  compelled  to  sue  for  justice  from  the 
treacherous  tyrants,  they  had  preserved,  nor  meanly  stooped 

"  To  lick  the  hand,  just  raised  to  shed  its  blood.** 
For  national  favours,  so  immediately  instrumental  in  the 
salvation  of  their  republick,  what  novel  and  brilliant  system 
of  compensation  did  these  eloquent  theorists,  who  are  eter- 
nally preaching  on  the  purity  of  the  social  contract,  invent  and 
adopt,  to  express  the  ardent  gratitude,  which  consumed  them, 
and  exonerate  the  mountainous  load  of  obligation,  which 
depressed  their  modest  sensibility  ?  Was  it  by  an  honoura- 
ble mention  in  the  bulletin?  The  union  of  the  flags  of  the 
two  republicks  in  the  hall  of  the  Convention  ?  Or  the  friendly 

care,  they  bestowed,  to  initiate  the  un-illuminated  mind  of  our 

v 

consul  Munroe  in  the  true  principles  of  Religion  and  Gov- 
ernment ?— No. — 'These  were  supererogatory  benefits,  gra- 
tuitously conferred  !  Frenchmen  were  more  nobly  actuated ! 
They  kindly  condescended,  for  our  exclusive  profit,  to  place 
our  defenceless  Commerce  under  their  fraternal  protection, 
lest  our  property  should  be  seized  and  confiscated  by  British 
free-booters  !  They  converted  our  vessels  to  the  use  of  the 
Republick,  lest  they  should  be  sunk  and  destroyed  by  British 
cannon !  They  stored  our  cargoes  in  their  National  Granaries, 
lest  we  should  trust  them  to  British  merchants,  and  be 
defrauded  of  our  payment !  And  they  have  beaten  and  impris- 
oned our  Seamen,  and  murdered  our  Smiths  and  our  Brad- 
lees,*  lest  they  should  fall  into  the  hands  of  British  buccaniers ! 

*  Captain  Eben.  Smith  and  Mr.  David  Bradlee,  of  the  ship  Hunter, 
bound  to  Martinique,  who  were  slain  in  an  action  with  a  French  Pri- 
39 


306  ORATION. 

Disinterested  generosity  of  a  wonderful  people  !  It  is  worthy 
of  Frenchmen ! 

Such  was  the  tender  affection  of  our  dear  "  Sister  repub- 
lick  1"  France  was  as  fair,  and  as  false,  as  the  beautiful  statue 
of  the  tyrant  Nabis,  Her  syren  charms,  though  more  baleful 
than  the  wrinkles  of  the  weird  sisters,  wore  the  celestial  sem- 
blance of  truth  and  innocence.  Her  smiles  allured  us  to  her 
fond  embrace.  We  rushed  into  her  arms,  and  in  her  treach- 
erous fold,  felt  the  keen  dagger,  in  her  breast  concealed, 
pierce  to  our  heart.*  Yes,  my  fellow  citizens,  America  has 
nearly  been  suffocated  in  the  extatick  raptures  of  the  "  hug 
fraternal !" 

From  a  mistaken  notion  of  the  principles  of  France  in  the 
assistance,  she  afforded  our  revolutionary  struggle,  have  flowed 
many  of  the  evils  and  indignities,  with  which  our  country  has 
been  assailed  and  corroded.  Deluded  by  a  fictitious  gratitude, 
an  almost  fatal  misconception  of  the  French  character  had 
hitherto  pervaded  the  minds  of  our  citizens.  The  description, 
which  one  of  their  greatest  philosophers  and  statesmen  has 
given  of  his  countrymen,  was  considered  as  illusory,  as  his 

vateer.  The  gallant  Smith  was  inhumanly  gashed  with  wounds  after 
his  vessel  had  surrendered;  and  Mr.  Bradlee  was  assassinated 
piecemeal,  and  thrown  over  board.  When  will  our  national  debt  of 
"  gratitude"  to  France  be  discharged  ! 

*  The  tyrant  Nabis,  when  any  of  his  rebellious  subjects  refused  to 
loan  him  the  sum  of  money,  he  demanded,  ordered  them  to  embrace 
his  Apega,  which  was  the  statue  of  a  beautiful  woman,  moving  by 
invisible  mechanism,  with  a  dagger  concealed  in  the  vestments  that 
ornamented  her  bosom. 


ORATION.  307 

theological  writings.  But  the  late  luminous  developement  of 
their  moral  and  political  levity  and  turpitude  has  established 
in  America  the  celebrated  opinion,  that  the  national  character 
of  France  is  an  amalgamation  of  the  two  most  opposite  quali- 
ties in  the  composition  of  human  nature  ;  the  artful  ferocity 
of  the  Tyger,  and  the  thoughtless  frivolity  of  the  Ape.  From 
the  barbarous  reign  of  Clovis,  when  the  skull-bone  of  an  enemy 
was  used  as  the  festal  goblet  at  the  banquet  of  victory,  to  the 
silken  empire  of  Madame  Tallien,  whose  Idalian  palace  is 
decorated  with  the  pictures  and  statues  of  Italy,  the  French 
nation  have  been  successively  occupied  in  giving  fashions  to 
Europe,  or  in  deluging  it  with  blood.  Paris,  as  these  contra- 
rient  propensities  have  predominated,  has  been  alternately  the 
toy -shop  of  folly,  the  divan  of  conspiracy,  or  the  charnel-house 
of  massacre.  The  French  Republick  has  exhibited  all  the 
vices  of  civilization,  without  one  of  the  virtues  of  barbarism. 
It  is  true  that  France,  at  some  periods  of  her  history',  has  been 
considered  an  amiable  nation.  But  these  polished  intervals 
have  seldom  occurred,  but  as  the  ominous  precursors  of  new 
political  convulsions.  They  have  resembled  the  awful  pause, 
that  predicts  the  ravages  of  the  hurricane,  the  horrible  silence, 
that  preludes  the  eruption  of  a  volcano. 

Political  Empiricism  has  never  attained,  in  any  age  or 
nation,  so  universal  an  ascendency,  as  at  the  present  day  in 
the  "  Illuminated  Republick."  Unfettered  by  the  fear  of 
innovation,  and  unshackled  by  the  prejudice  of  ages,  the  mod- 
ern Frenchman  is  educated  in  a  system  of  moral  and  religious 
chimeras,  which  dazzle  by  their  novelty  those  volatile  intel- 


308  ORATION. 

lects,  which  prescriptive  wisdom  could  never  impress  with 
veneration.  Every  Frenchman,  who  has  read  a  little,  is  a 
pedant ;  and  the  whole  race  of  these  horn-book  Philosophers 
is  content  with  the  atheism  of  Mirabeau,  the  historick  pages 
of  Rollin  and  Plutarch,  the  absurd  philanthropy  of  Condorcet, 
and  the  visionary  politics  of  Rosseau.*  These  are  the  boun- 
daries of  their  literary  ambition,  of  their  political  science. 
Hence  it  is,  that  they  pretend  to  be  too  enlightened  for  belief^ 
too  virtuous  for  government.  Hence  too  it  is,  that  their 
courts  of  jurisprudence  are  but  a  solemn  mockery  of  justice. 
In  its  present  state  of  corruption,  the  French  trial  by  jury  is 
more  preposterously  barbarous,  than  the  Gotbick  decision  by 
camp-fight,  and  more  venal  and  precarious,  than  the  verdict 
of  an  Inquisition.  Professing  to  discard  every  religious  obli- 
gation, it  is  the  first  creed  of  republican  France,  that  there  is  no- 
God  ;  and  the  sanctity  of  an  oath  is  held  hi  equal  solemnity  by 
a  French  Juryman,  with  the  truth  of  a  sonnet  to  his  mistress's 
eye-brow  by  a  French  Poet  1  By  annihilating  the  sacred 
source  of  justice,  the  common  assurances  of  liberty  must  be 
subverted  and  destroyed  ;  and,  in  this  universal  dilapidation 
of  principle,  the  institutes  of  Justinian  will  share  the  same 
fate  with  the  papal  decrees  of  Gregory,  or  the  municipal  polity 
of  Alfred.  The  protecting  arm  of  the  law  has  been  paralized 
by  the  leporous  poisons  of  vice  and  infidelity  ;  and  life,  liberty 
and  property,  the  imprescriptible  rights  of  every  one,  are  now 
reduced,  by  these  disinterested  disciples  of  equality,  to  a  mere 

*See  "Residence  in  France,"  described  in  a  series  of  Letters 
from  an  English  JLady ;  prepared  for  the  press  by  John  Gifford,  Esq. 


ORATION.  309 

lubricous  dependance  on  the  will  of  the  Directory.  The  sub- 
stance of  these  alienable  privileges  has  been  refined  to  a 
vapor  ;  and  the  splendid  evanescence ,  that  remains,  is  nothing 
but  the  air-blown  bubble  of  the  school-boy,  whose  tenuous 
essence  has  scarce  weight  enough  to  gravitate,  or  density  to 
rarify,  and  will  vanish  in  a  sun-beam,  or  dissolve  at  the  touch. 
The  cabinet  of  the  Luxembourgh,  having  thus  introduced 
and  effectuated  a  scheme  of  national  demoralization,  have 
removed  the  strongest  barrier,  that  could  be  opposed  to  the 
accomplishment  of  their  ambitious  designs,  a  military  despo- 
tism. The  impracticable  system  of  a  permanent  oligarchy 
can  never  have  been  the  uniform  consummation,  to  which 
these  modern  Cromwells  have  aspired.  The  essence  of  all 
their  plans  is  to  consolidate  in  the  executive  all  the  powers  of 
the  government,  by  reducing  the  popular  branches  to  such 
sequacious  docility,  that, like  the  States  General  under  the  Mon- 
archy, they  may  be  convened  and  dismissed  at  the  beck  of  an 
arbitrary  master.  "  Every  one,"  says  Mallet  du  Pan,  "  who 
has  aspired  to  the  administration  of  the  revolution,  has  been 
labouring  only  to  force  open  for  himself  the  door  of  wealth 
and  power,  and  then  to  shut  it  after  him."  This  has  been  the 
continued  tissue  of  their  policy  from  the  Philosophers  of  589 
to  the  Tyrants  of '98.  From  the  martyrdom  of  their  Monarch 
to  the  dethronement  of  their  God  !  And,  from  the  present 
apparent  solution  of  this  political  riddle,  it  is  highly  probable, 
that  the  French  nation,  after  having  been  successively  deluded 
by  the  splendid  follies,  the  magnificent  crimes,  and  fascinating 
theories,  with  which  their  revolution  has  been  disgracefully 


310  ORATION. 

embellished,  will  at  last  return  to  their  original  servitude,  with 
the  loss  of  their  former  morals,  the  stain  of  accumulated  bar- 
barism, and  the  corrosive  reflection  of  having  deserved  every 
misery,  they  endure. 

While  this  aspiring  project  of  concentrating  the  publick 
authority  has  been  generating  and  maturing  in  the  council- 
chamber  of  the  Directory,  and  waiting  only  a  propitious  junc- 
tion for  its  establishment,  the  more  ambitious  scheme  of 
universal  dominion,*  which  has  for  ages  descended,  like  an 
heirloom,  with  the  royal  palace  of  France  has  been  revived 
by  these  thrifty  speculators  in  human  misery,  with  an  enthu- 
siasm, that  would  characterize  the  madman  of  Sweden ;  has 
been  prosecuted  with  more  fantastick  ferocity,  than  formerly 
desolated  the  plains  of  Palestine ;  and  has  been  rendered  more 
illustrious  by  its  heroes  and  its  achievements,  than  the  hitherto 
unparallelled  glory  of  chivalry,  the  Siege  of  Candia.  The 
pageantry  of  its  victories  concealed  the  subtle  policy,  which 
had  secured  them.  The  ludicrous  doctrine  of  a  moral,  physi- 

*  In  a  late  celebrated  "  Historical  Essay  on  the  Ambition  and 
conquests  of  France,"  printed  in  London,  1797,  the  American  politi- 
cian will  find  it  satisfactorily  demonstrated,  that  the  boundaries,  to 
which  the  republican  rules  of  France  are  aiming1  to  extend  her  domin- 
ion, are  the  same,  which  her  monarchs  have  for  three  hundred  years 
been  struggling1  to  obtain.  The  same  ruinous  ambition,  which  char- 
acterizes the  present  French  ministers,  is  incontestibly  proved  to 
have  existed  in  the  time  of  Richelieu,  and  is  perspicuously  traced 
"  through  the  wearisome  reigns  of  Louis  the  superb,  Louis  the  liber- 
tine, and  Louis  the  insincere,  to  the  present  Louisless  form  of 
government." 


ORATION.  311 

oal  and  personal  equality  and  the  fanatical  plan  of  universal 
liberty  were  the  most  captivating  allurements,  to  enlist  the 
prejudices  of  the  people  under  the  crusading  banners  of  Insur- 
rection. This  political  fruit  of  temptation,  like  the  apple 
from  the  tree  of  knowledge,  could  not  be  withstood  by  the 
curiosity  of  mankind.  It  was  so  artfully  presented,  it  bloomed 
so  deliciously  fair,  and  looked  so  invitingly  innocent,  that 
surely  there  could  be  no  harm  in  a  taste !  But,  to  the 
untempted  gaze  of  the  distant  spectator,  to  the  analyzing  eye 
of  the  real  philosopher  this  stupendous  doctrine  of  confusion 
assumed  a  potentous  and  alarming  aspect.  Terrible  in  its 
splendour,  it  seemed,  like  the  comet  approaching  its  perihelion, 
in  so  elliptical  a  path,  that  its  flaming  progress  must  impinge 
on  every  orbit  in  our  system,  ere  it  could  complete  the  tour 
of  its  destination,  and  return  into  the  regions  of  Chaos. 

The  great  foundations  of  those  European  governments, 
which  have  been  enslaved  by  Republican  liberty,  were  loos- 
ened and  undermined  by  the  torrent  of  French  principles, 
before  the  attack  upon  their  out-works  was  commenced  by 
the  French  artillery.  Their  bulwarks  were  tottering  to  their, 
fall,  before  these  illuminated  Knights-errant  approached  the 
battlements  to  conquer  the  people  into  freedom !  By  opening 
the  wall  of  allegiance,  the  fatal  breach  was  made,  through 
which  the  wooden  horse  was  to  be  inducted ;  and  to  the  folly 
of  popular  superstition  were  alike  destined  to  be  sacrificed 
the  humble  dwellings  of  the  credulous  multitude,  the  splen- 
did palaces  of  the  nobles,  and  the  venerable  temples  of  the 
Deitv. 


ORATION. 

The  all-devouring  republick  has  neither  spared  the  imbe- 
cillity  of  the  weak,  nor  respected  the  sanctity  of  the  sacred. 
Not  content  with  the  succumbing  pliability  of  Spain,  the  coerced 
neutrality  of  Prussia,  and  the  trophied  wrecks  and  servile 
prostration  of  Italy,  her  carnivorous  appetite  has  pampered 
its  gluttony  on  the  temporalities  of  unoffending  bishops,  the 
charters  of  free  cities,  and  the  feeblest  electorates  and  duke- 
doms, from  whose  enmity  she  had  nothing  to  fear,  from  whose 
plunder  she  had  little  to  gain.  Her  only  attributes  have  been 
intrigue  and  voracity  ;  she  has  been  ingenious  only  to  corrupt, 
and  valiant  only  to  destroy  ! 

Wherever  the  revolutionary  mania  has  prevailed,  confusion 
and  conspiracy  have  been  the  symptoms  of  the  disease,  and 
misery  and  massacre  its  crisis.  Holland  was  bit  by  the  French 
tarantula,  and  nothing  could  cure  the  wound  but  French 
music.  No  other  remedy  would  do ;  and  for  six  years,  she 
has  been  dancing  round  a  Pike-staff  to  the  tune  of  Ca  Ira, 
till  her  treasury  is  exhausted  by  the  expenses  of  the  piper  ! 

The  once  fertile  and  flourishing  provinces  of  Belgium 
have  been  incorporated,  plundered  and  depopulated.  Their 
iire-sides  have  been  polluted  by  the  debaucheries  of  French- 
men ;  their  dykes  have  been  filled  with  the  bodies  of  their 
fellow-citizens. 

Venice,  the  eldest  sister  in  the  family  of  modern  republicks, 
after  being  embraced  by  the  "  Terrible  People,"  has  been 
sent  to  market,  like  a  Circassian  beauty,  tricked  out  in  her 
gaudiest  attire,  and  sold  for  the  household  service  of  the 
Emperor. 


ORATIOX.  313 

Geneva  was  once  the  bee-hive  of  Europe.  Active,  harmo- 
nious and  skilful,  it  was  the  most  industrious,  the  most  inge- 
nious, the  happiest  of  nations,  till  its  crude,  unpolished, 
antiquated  notions  of  liberty  were  alchymised  in  the  all-dis- 
solving crucible  of  French  Philosophy.  Art,  genius,  industry, 
vanished  in  the  subtlety  of  the  experiment ;  and  Geneva  now 
exists  only  on  the  map  of  the  geographer. 

The  inhabitants  of  Switzerland,  whose  unconquerable  fore- 
fathers had  resisted  and  repelled  the  concentrated  forces  of 
Austria,  for  five  hundred  years  enjoyed  as  pure  a  system  of 
liberty,  as  could  subsist  in  the  pastoral  state  of  mankind.  But, 
alas  !  these  honest  and  gallant  Helvetians,  who  had  been  the 
faithful  allies  of  France  above  a  century  and  a  half,  have  also 
been  entangled  in  the  fate-woven  toils  of  her  friendship.  Their 
hereditary  love  of  democracy  was  fevered  to  infatuation  by  the 
modern  refinement  of  "  rights  and  liberties ;"  and,  in  the 
poignant  experience  of  these  blessings,  they  are  now  writhing 
under  the  disastrous  infliction  of  the  right  to  groan,  the  liberty 
to  starve  1  They  had  only  to  unite  and  to  conquer,  but  they 
have  been  divided  and  enslaved.  They  could  find  no  protec- 
tion in  the  rugged  height  of  their  mountains,  no  shelter  in  the 
happy  humbleness  of  their  vallies.  Their  persevering  bene- 
factors pursued  their  victims  above  the  clouds,  and  deluged 
their  meadows  with  the  blood  of  their  cultivators.  But,  trem- 
ble Frenchmen  !  The  Swiss  will  not  live  to  be  slaves  ;  and 
though  your  pestilent  alliance  is  as  palsying  as  the  touch  of 
the  Torpedo,  they  will  struggle  for  their  lost  independence, 
40 


314 


ORATION. 


while  one  of  their  descendants  remains  unbutchered  by  your 
fraternal  benevolence.  Yes !  the  shade  of  Tell  has  already 
risen  from  his  grave  ;  and  the  spirit  of  Liberty,  terrible  in 
arms,  again  stalks  on  the  blood-crimsoned  tops  of  the  Glaciers. 
That  the  same  gigantick  principle  of  domination,  which  has 
impelled  France  to  the  mad  enterprise  of  subduing  and  bar- 
barizing Europe,  has  invariably  controled  her  conduct  to  our 
own  country,  is  a  truth,  as  irrefragable,  as  it  is  momentous. 
From  the  first  signing  of  the  treaty  of  alliance,  whose  dissolu- 
tion we  this  day  celebrate,  the  ministry  of  Versailles  had  con- 
ceived this  iniquitous  project.  To  check  the  pride  of  an 
inveterate  rival,  they  generously  condescended  to  assist  our 
infant  republick  in  its  struggle  with  an  overweening  step- 
mother ;  in  the  hope,  that  the  froward  child,  overwhelmed 
with  a  sense  of  gratitude,  would  leap  into  the  arms  of  its  disin- 
terested benefactors ;  or,  if  its  obstinate  principles  of  indepen- 
dence should  remain  unshaken,  that,  deprived  of  the  nurturing 
power,  and  exposed  to  the  systematick  resentment  of  Great 
Britain,  it  would  soon  be  compelled  to  receive  the  protection 
of  Frenchmen  on  their  own  terms,  and  fall  an  easy  prey  to 
their  arts  and  their  arms,  their  gold  and  their  gun-powder. 
When  the  treaty  of  peace  was  in  negociation,  a  new  outline  of 
the  same  elaborate  system  was  betrayed.  By  the  fiend-like 
hypocrisy,  and  collusive  machinations  of  the  French  Minister, 
the  whole  navigation  of  the  Mississippi,  from  its  sources  to  the 
ocean,  with  an  immense  tract  of  the  most  valuable  contiguous 
country,  were  to  be  ceded  to  Spain  ;  and  the  American  right 


ORATION.  315 

in  the  fisheries  of  Newfoundland,  an  inexhaustible  mine  of 
commerce,  from  which  our  enterprising  citizens  might  enrich 
the  coffers  and  strengthen  the  nerves  of  our  government,  was 
to  be  sacrificed  to  Great  Britain.*  The  calculating  cabinet 
of  France  readily  suggested  and  countenanced  these  degrad- 
ing propositions ;  because  it  well  knew,  that  to  environ  the 
two  extremes  of  our  territoiy  with  the  colonies  of  European 
powers,  whom  she  could  at  any  time  render  hostile  to  our 
interests,  was  one  great  stride  towards  reducing  us  to  a  state 
of  dependence  on  her  bountiful  aid ;  and  because  it  clearly 
foresaw,  that  our  extended  line  of  sea-coast  would  soon  need 
a  naval  defence,  and  that  the  fisheries,  if  left  in  our  power, 
would  be  the  nurseries  of  our  seamen,  the  hardiest  race  of 
our  inhabitants,  who  have  now  become  the  avenging  protect- 
ors of  their  country,  and  the  ocean  that  laves  it.  But  with 
such  specious  plausibility  was  this  pregnant  measure  conduct- 
ed, that  even  the  acute  judgment  of  a  Franklin,  whose  eleva- 
ted mind  could  behold  the  thunder-cloud  in  its  ignition,  as  a 
subject  of  philosophical  experiment,  was  duped  and  deluded 
by  the  Gobelin  tapestry,  which  concealed  the  mighty  mischief ; 
and  America,  at  this  day,  is  indebted,  for  these  important 
branches  of  her  national  commerce  and  aggrandizement,  to 

*  Great  Britain,  our  inveterate  oppressor,  from  whom  we  had 
revolted,  was  willing  to  acknowledge  our  right  in  the  fisheries  ;  but 
France,  our  trusty  ally,  was  opposed  to  it !  Count  Vergennes  even 
reproached  Mr.  Fitzherbert  for  the  passive  surrender. 


316  ORATION. 

the  firmness  and  wisdom  of  that  enlightened  patriot,  the  cal- 
umniated JAY  ;  and  to  the  penetrating  policy,  and  inflexible 
decision  of  that  virtuous  and  unrivalled  Statesman,  who  has 
now  rendered  his  countrymen  as  happy  and  as  glorious  by  his 
administration,  as  he  hajd  before  made  his  country  immortal  by 
his  talents. 

To  detail  the  progress  of  this  ravenous  ambition,  by  which 
France  has  been  actuated  in  her  designs  on  the  Government 
and  People  of  America,  since  the  convulsions  of  Europe  have 
given  ampler  scope  to  her  diplomatick  dexterity,  would  be 
but  to  repeat  the  voluminous  history  of  her  unblushing  perfi- 
dies, and  the  melancholy  record  of  our  national  degradation. 
Who  does  not  remember  the  letter  to  Mazzei,  or  the  arrival 
of  Genet  ?  Who  has  forgotten  that  dubious  sera  in  our  history, 
when  illuminated  fraternities  were  scattered,  like  the  pestife- 
rious  effluvia  of  the  poison-tree  of  Java,  from  Altamaha  to  St. 
Croix  ?  When  anarchy  and  disorganization  were  the  order 
of  the  day,  and  French  consuls,  and  French  assignats  the  order 
of  the  night  ?  When  our  "  civick  feasts"  were  introduced  to 
celebrate  French  victories,  and  our  "  water-melon  frolicks" 
to  disseminate  French  principles  ?  When  political  infidelity 
was  a  paramount  title  to  the  suffrages  of  the  people  ?  When 
Foreign  Influence,  like  the  golden  calf,  seduced  multitudes 
from  the  worship  of  true  liberty  ?  When  our  government 
stood  trembling  on  the  crater  of  revolution,  whose  combustible 
materials  were  kindling  for  its  destruction  ?  Who  does  not 
recollect  that  disastrous  juncture,  when  the  epidemy  of  atheism 


ORATION.  31  r 

and  anarchy  was  so  fatally  virulent,  that  though  some  few  of 
the  leaders  of  the  faction  had  been  regularly  innoculated  by 
French  Mountebanks,  more  than  half  of  the  people  of  America 
had  taken  it  in  the  natural  way  ?  To  check  this  dstemper, 
the  depleting  medicine  of  Reason  was  an  abortive  prescrip- 
tion :  You  might  as  well  attempt  to  restore  a  lunatick  to  his 
senses  by  a  decoction  of  poppies,  or  to  cure  the  pestilence  of 
Smyrna  by  the  panaceous  elixir  of  Don  Quixote. 

At  one  period,  so  rapid  and  extensive  was  the  current  of 
these  republican  ethicks,  that  the  terrible  alluvion  had  well 
nigh  swept  away  every  monument  of  civilization,  that  brightens 
society ;  whelmed  every  virtue,  that  corrects  the  obliquities 
of  human  life  ;  and  desolated  every  hope  of  happiness,  that 
attaches  man  to  a  future  existence  ! 

The  fanaticism,  that  infected  the  people,  extended  its  con- 
tagion even  to  the  administration.  Who  has  not  heard  of  the 
philosopher  Randolph,  and  the  discovery  of  the  "  flour  plot  ?" 
The  anxiety,  incident  to  crime,  generally  furnishes  the  clue  to 
its  detection  ;  and  the  designs  of  this  apostle  of  democracy 
had  never  been  ascertained  in  the  extent  of  their  baseness,  had 
not  his  own  guilty  garrulity,  "  drawn  like  French  wire,"  and 
bedight  with  fillagree  syllogism,  prattled  and  quibbled  through 
many  a  meagre  page,  to  prove  himself  the  traitor,  he  was 
called  !  The  Roman  capitol,  and  the  liberties  of  America, 
have  both  been  preserved  by  the  cackling  of  a  goose  1 

Still,  however,  the  faction,  like  Antaeus,  grew,  stronger  by 
its  fall ;  till  its  midnight  cabals,  its  secret  complottings,  and 


318  ORATION. 

Catalinian  conspiracies,  were  detected,  exposed  and  confound- 
ed, by  our  guardian  WASHINGTON  ;  who,  like  Uriel  descend- 
ing on  the  sun-beam,  discerned  the  latent  fiend  entering  our 
paradise  in  a  mist !  But  so  audacious  was  the  apostacy  of  our 
disorganizes,  that  the  development  of  their  crimes  only  served 
to  harden  their  effrontery.  The  obituary  "  Hie  Jacet"  of  our 
federal  constitution  was  already  written  in  blood  by  the  disci- 
ples of  Barras ;  arid  this  fair  domain  of  liberty,  this  last  and 
noblest  empire  of  time,  was  first  to  be  lulled  into  a  deceitful 
security  by  the  hypocritick  cant  of  French  philosophy,  and 
then  to  be  reasoned  into  conviction  by  the  cogent  logick  of 
French  bayonets. 

When  the  flame  of  indignation,  enkindled  by  the  dispatches 
from  our  Envoys,  burst  spontaneous  from  the  bosom  of  every 
honest  American,  where  was  the  boasted  sincerity  of  this  am- 
icable nation  ?  She  denied  the  officiality  of  her  corrupt  agents, 
and  with  malignant  contrition  solicited  a  new  diplomatick  in- 
tercourse !  But  what  was  the  object  of  this  temporising  pol- 
icy,— what  these  hostile  proffers  of  peace  ?  Were  they  not 
new  baits  for  our  credulity, — new  "  springes  to  catch  Wood- 
cocks ?"  To  cool  the  publick  resentment  by  delay,  to  give 
direction  and  confidence  to  her  proselytes,  and  to  collect  her 
dissipated  influence  for  the  decisive  blow  ?  But  I  trust,  my 
young  friends,  and  fellow-citizens,  that  you  are  now  deeply 
convinced,  that  France,  under  its  present  rulers,  will  make  no 
treaty  with  you,  which  you  ought  in  honour  to  sign  ;  and  that 
a  government,  which  has  derided  religion,  as  a  farce,  denounced 


ORATION.  319 

the  laws  of  nations,  as  "  worm-eaten  codes,"  and  torn  up 
the  foundations  of  social  virtue,  has  no  pledge  to  offer  for  the 
sincerity  of  its  intentions,  no  sanction  to  seal  the  obligation  of 
its  contracts  !  To  expect  a  rigid  adherence  to  the  maxims  of 
national  justice  from  a  people,  which  has  thus  annihilated  all 
its  religious  and  political  duties,  would  be  as  fatal,  as  it  is  vain. 
It  would  be  more  rational  and  safe,  to  sleep  with  the  crocodile 
on  the  banks  of  the  Nile,  or  repair  to  the  den  of  the  panther 
for  the  hospitable  banquet ! 

But  is  this  metaphysical  depravity,  this  false  system  of  reas- 
on and  morals,  forever  to  disconnect  the  two  countries  ?  I  an- 
swer, No  !  Though  our  political  alliance  with  France  is,  I 
trust,  forever  dissolved,  yet,  when  the  frivolous  fluctuations  of 
her  government  shall  have  subsided  to  a  permanent  organiza- 
tion, it  is  probable  a  new  commercial  relation  may  be  adopted. 
But  let  not  the  virtue  and  allegiance  of  our  citizens  be  seduced 
ky  the  hopeful  delusions  of  emolument.  The  feculence  of 
party  is  not  yet  drained  of  its  rankest  sediment.  The  wor- 
shippers of  democracy,  though  their  alters  are  thrown  down, 
are  not  yet  converted  from  their  devotions.  The  frozen  snake 
has  still  some  sparks  of  animation ;  and,  if  placed  by  compas- 
sion near  your  hospitable  fires,  he  will  yet  revive  with  exas- 
perated venom,  and  sting  the  hardy  fool  that  fostered  him. 
Deal  therefore  with  these  ferocious  demoralizers,  as  our  crafty 
mariners  trade  with  the  savages  of  the  Indian  ocean — with 
your  men  at  their  posts,  your  guns  loaded,  and  your  slow 
matches  burning  ! 


320  ORATION. 

A  pure,  unmixed  Jacobin,  of  the  secondary  order,  is  an  en- 
emy to  all  governments,  under  which  he  holds  no  office.  Be 
it  a  republick,  it  is  venal ;  an  aristocracy,  it  is  feudal ;  a 
monarchy,  it  is  despotick.  In  short,  he  barks  for  a  pension, 
and  raves  at  his  obscurity.  Reverse  the  scene  ;  present  him 
a  piece  of  parchment  with  the  President's  seal  appendant, 
and  you  will  see 

"  That  lowliness  is  young  Ambition's  ladder, 
Whereto  the  climber  upwards  turns  his  face, 
But  wh'-n  he  once  attains  the  topmost  round, 
He  then  unto  the  ladder  turns  his  back, 
Looks  in  the  clouds,  scorning  the  base  degrees, 
By  which  he  did  ascend." — 

Invest  a  Jacobin  (of  this  minor  species)  in  the  enviable  digni- 
ties of  a  federal  commission,  and  his  former  virulence  will  be 
instantly  mollified  to  the  most  submissive  servility.  He  will 
attack  his  old  companions  in  iniquity,  and  beat  them  at  their 
own  weapons  ;  he  will  write  federal  libels  on  the  publick 
fences,  and  break  the  windows  of  the  Chronicle  office  !  From 
a  most  ferocious,  he  is  transformed  to  a  most  tractable  animal ; 
and  from  a  town-meeting  caviller  against  priests  and  place- 
men, he  becomes  the  very  scavenger  of  administration  I* 
Such  is  the  legitimate  plebeian  democrat ;  a  mere  poisonous 
fungus,  produced  by  the  effervescence  of  the  times,  "  like  the 

*  This  character  is  only  applicable  to  the  mere  apprentices  of  the 
disorganizing  craft,  who,  from  their  hebetude,  iuid  the  incrustecl 
maxims  of  puritanick  education  cannot  relish  the  sublime  herrours 
of  abstract  profligacy  {  and  are  therefore  deemed  unfit  candidates  to 
be  initiated  into  the  higher  mysteries  of  ilium inatism  ! 


ORATION.  321 

green  mantle  on  the  standing  pool/*  by  the  putrid  exhalation 
of  a  summer's  sun. 

But  a  Jacobin  of  Weishaupt's  school  never  changes  his 
principles  :  honours  and  promotions  never  alter  a  title  of  his 
creed ;  and  he  aspires  to  office  only  for  the  purpose  of  embez- 
zling the  revenues,  and  prostrating  the  happiness  of  his  coun- 
try. A  character,  so  inveterately  perverse,  has  no  capacity 
to  appreciate  the  real  blessings  of  Religion,  Government  or 
Liberty.  His  whole  science  is  directed  to  unhinge  society, 
his  whole  ambition  to  plunder  it.  He  is  too  ravenous  to  be 
content  with  a  system  of  order  himself;  and  too  selfish  to 
permit  its  enjoyment  by  others.  Like  a  hog  in  a  flower- 
garden,  he  sets  no  value  on  the  variegated  foliage  he  destroys, 
and  seems  only  desirous  to  root  out  every  twig  of  vegetation, 
that  can  satiate  his  voracity.* 

That  a  free  government  should  always  be  corroded  by  a 
desperate  faction  is  as  natural,  as  that  the  luxuriance  of  the 
soil  should  be  known  by  the  rankness  of  its  weeds  ;  that  the 

majestick  oak  should  be  entwined  by  the  baleful  ivy ;  or  that 

, 

*  To  do  justice  to  his  subject,  the  style  of  a  writer  must  conform 
to  it.  Were  a  poet  to  conjure  down  every  planet  and  constellation, 
that  "  frets  with  gold  the  vaulted  roof  of  heaven,'*  or  to  pilfer  every 
nosegay  from  the  bosom  of  Flora,  he  would  not  find,  in  the  whole 
motley  mass  of  his  plunder,  a  fit  simile  for  a  jacobin  !  he  must  descend 
to  the  most  groveling-  and  churlish  of  the  brute  creation.  The  great 
Burke  himself,  in  some  of  his  most  celebrated  speeches  in  parlia- 
ment, and  particularly  in.  his  "Letter  to  the  Duke  of  Bedford"  was 
compelled  to  commit  this  outrage  on  the  delicate  taste  of  a  critical 
publick ! 

41 


322  ORATION. 

the  most  fruitful  productions  of  the  vegetable  world  should  be 
selected  by  the  cancerous  tooth  of  the  caterpillar. 

In  the  fickle  climate  of  democracy,  it  is  not  rational  to 
expect  a  settled  season  of  unclouded  tranquillity ;  the  torpor 
of  the  elements,  and  the  serenity  of  the  sky  are  the  surest 
harbingers,  that  the  storm  is  generating.  But,  to  use  the  meta- 
phor of  Mr.  JEFFERSON,  should  the  "  tempestuous  sea  of  Lib- 
erty" again  dash  its  audacious  billows  against  the  sides  of 
our  government,  it  will  become  the  duty  of  our  political  pilots, 
in  imitation  of  sacred  example,  to  seize  the  unrighteous  Jonah, 
whose  treachery  had  roused  the  angry  spirits  of  the  deep,  and 
plunge  him  into  the  foaming  waves,  to  appease  the  rebellious 
element. 

The  same  implacable  principle  of  opposition,  which  has 
hitherto  directed  the  virulence  of  our  leading  demagogues 
against  every  thing,  that  is  American,  either  in  Religion  or 
Laws,  has  levelled  their  most  pointed  opprobrium  against  this 
celebration  of  an  important  anniversary,  which  has  reflected 
so  much  honour  and  dignity  on  the  enterprizing  and  discern- 
ing patriotism  of  the  Young  Men  of  Boston.  The  most  anti- 
quated and  "  woe -begone"  among  these  acute  politicians,  who 
are  also  the  most  inveterate  in  their  prejudices,  and  the  most 
despotick  in  their  principles,  have  assailed  you,  my  young 
friends,  with  the  charge  of  juvenile  presumption  in  thus  con- 
temptuously daring  to  oppose  the  ricketty  decisions  of  their 
ridiculous  wisdom.  To  so  feeble  an  attack,  it  will  be  only 
necessary  to  reply,  that  the  Young  Men  of  Boston  have  not 


ORATION.  323 

yet  grown  grey  in  the  vices  of  childhood,  nor  remained  stupid 
in  spite  of  experience. 

The  solemn  oath  of  America  has  ascended  to  heaven.  She 
has  sworn  to  preserve  her  Independence,  her  religion  and  her 
laws,  or  nobly  perish  in  their  defence,  and  be  buried  in  the 
wrecks  of  her  empire.  To  the  fate  of  our  Government  is 
united  the  fate  of  our  Country.  The  convulsion,  that  destroys 
the  one,  must  desolate  the  other.  Their  destinies  are  inter- 
woven, and  they  must  triumph  or  fall  together.  Where  then 
is  the  man,  so  hardened  in  political  iniquity,  as  to  advocate  the 
victories  of  French  arms,  which  would  render  his  countrymen 
slaves,  or  to  promote  the  diffusion  of  French  principles,  which 
would  render  them  savages  ?  Can  it  be  doubted,  that  the  pike 
of  a  French  soldier  is  less  cruel  and  ferqcious  than  the  frater- 
nity of  a  French  Philosopher  ?  .  Where  is  the  youth  in  this 
assembly,  who  could,  without  agonized  emotions,  behold  the 
Gallick  invader  hurling  the  brand  of  devastation  into  the  dwel- 
ling of  his  father ;  or  with  sacrilegious  cupidity  plundering 
the  communion-table  of  his  God  ?  Who  could  witness,  without 
indignant  desperation,  the  mother,  who  bore  him,  inhumanly 
murdered,  in  the  defence  of  her  infants  ?  Who  could  hear, 
without  frantick  horrour,  the  shrieks  of  a  sister,  flying  from 
pollution,  and  leaping  from  the  blazing  roof,  to  impale  herself 
on  the  point  of  a  halbert  ?  "  If  any,  speak,  for  him  have  I 
offended  1"  No,  my  fellow  citizens,  these  scenes  are  never  to 
be  witnessed  by  American  eyes.  The  soul  of  your  ancestors 
still  lives  in  the  bosom  of  their  descendants  ;  and  rather  than 
submit  this  fair  land  of  their  inheritance  to  ravage  and  dishon- 


324  ORATION. 

our,  from  hoary  age  to  helpless  infancy,  they  will  form  onft 
united  bulwark,  and  oppose  their  breasts  to  the  assailing  foe. 
Not  one  shall  survive,  to  be  enslaved  ;  for  ere  the  tri-coloured 
flag  shall  wave  over  our  prostrate  republick,  the  bones  of  four 
millions  of  Americans  shall  whiten  the  shores  of  their  country  ! 
This  depopulated  region  shall  be  as  desolate,  as  its  original 
wilderness ;  the  re-vegetating  forest  shall  cover  the  ruins  of 
our  cities ;  and  the  savage  shall  return  from  the  mountains, 
and  again  rear  his  hut  in  the  abode  of  his  forefathers.  Then 
shall  commence  the  millenium  of  political  illumination;  and 
Frenchmen  and  wolves,  "  one  and  indivisible,"  nightly  chaunt 
their  barbarous  orgies,  to  celebrate  the  Philosophick  Empire 
of  Democracy  1 

That  America  will  ultimately  be  reduced  under  Gallick 
control  is  the  "  flattering  unction,"  which  our  disorganizes 
have  "  laid  to  their  souls."  They  have  long  been  predicting 
the  crisis  of  a  new  explosion ;  and  are  now  anticipating  the 
Christian  luxury  of  triumph  and  revenge.  But  let  them  be 
no  longer  deceived ;  Americans  are  as  enlightened,  as  they 
have  proved  themselves  invincible ;  and  the  rock-rooted 
foundations  of  their  government  can  only  be  shaken  by  a  rev- 
olution of  the  moral  world ! 

The  progress  of  truth  is  slow,  but  irresistable.  Its  tem- 
perate light  has  at  length  dawned  in  Europe,  dispelled  the 
sickly  vapours  of  illuminatism,  and  awakened  the  dormant 
spirit  of  nations.  The  armies  and  fleets  of  France  will  op- 
pose its  diffusion  in  vain.  The  gilt  folios  of  her  Savans 
cannot  divert  its  operation  ;  it  will  overwhelm  all  obstacles  in 


ORATION.  325 

its  passage,  like  the  cataract  in  its  fall,  and  affect  every  region 
in  its  career,  like  the  motion  of  this  "  great  globe  itself." 
Already  have  the  boasted  conquerors  of  Italy,  covered  with 
disaster,  disgrace  and  defeat,  retraced  their  blood-printed 
footsteps  through  the  realms,  they  had  desolated.  Already 
do  the  nations,  enslaved  by  their  perfidy,  shake  off  their 
ignominious  submission,  and  rise  to  "  break  their  chains  on 
the  heads  of  their  oppressors."  The  fictitious  fabrick  of 
French  glory,  like  the  Pantheon  at  Paris,  is  already  cracked 
in  its  dome,  and  will  ere  long  crumble  into  ruins,  beneath  the 
ponderous  pressure  of  its  own  incumbent  magnificence. 

The  government  of  our  country,  rich  in  its  resources, 
happy  in  the  blessings,  it  dispenses,  and  strong  in  the  alle- 
giance of  its  citizens,  is  daily  maturing  in  its  wisdom  and 
respectability,  like  the  character  of  the  people,  it  governs. 
Essential  to  its  very  existence  is  publick  virtue.  It  is  the 
bark  of  our  political  tree,  which  conveys  the  sap  to  its  branches; 
the  channel,  which  supplies  its  vegetation  with  aliment. 
Should  this  vital  principle  of  republicks  be  perpetuated  in  its 
vigour  and  purity,  we  may  fondly  hope  the  longevity  of  our 
government  will  be  indefinitely  protracted.  Then  may  we 
prophecy,  that  when  this  century,  in  the  obscuring  retrospect 
of  time,  shall  be  numbered  with  the  years  beyond  the  flood, 
when  the  historick  fragments  of  its  stupendous  events,  covered 
with  the  venerable  honours  of  antiquity,  shall  be  traced  by  the 
future  historian,  as  the  wondering  traveller,  in  his  classick 
pilgrimage,  now  contemplates  the  ruins  of  Balbeck,  the  revolv- 


326  ORATION. 

ing  sun  shall  not  behold,  in  his  journey  of  ages,  a  nation,  so 
illustrious  in  its  Independence,  so  happy  in  its  Laws. 

Then  shall  the  heroes  and  statesmen,  who  have  preserved 
and  exalted  our  country,  never  be  indebted  to  the  charity  of  a 
foreigner,  to  snatch  their  memories  from  oblivion  ;  nor  their 
tombs  be  defended  by  the  reproachful  paling  of  iron,  to  pre- 
serve their  ashes  from  violation.  Then  shall  America,  fired 
with  the  noblest  emulation  of  national  spirit,  and  disdaining  to 
discharge  her  debts  of  honour  by  the  contracted  ledger  of 
republican  gratitude,  never  want  the  cannon  of  a  Truxton,  to 
shake  the  ocean  with  her  resentment ;  the  lightning  of  a 
Pickering,  to  flash  conviction  on  her  foes ;  nor  the  arm  of  a 
WASHINGTON,  to  catch  the  thunderbolts  of  France  on  his  buck- 
ler 1  the  oaken  garland*  of  triumphant  Liberty  shall  bloom  with 
unfading  honours ;  the  solid  cement,  which  connects  the 
hemispheric  arch  of  our  union,  shall  acquire  new  strength 
and  durability  from  the  tempests  of  time ;  and  the  prayers  of 
each  succeeding  generation,  proudly  exulting  in  the  blessings 
transmitted  to  them,  shall,  in  unison  with  ours, 

To  Heaven's  high  throne  with  rapture  be  addressed, 
Long  live  Columbia,  and  be  Adams  blest ! 


*The  oaken  garland  was,  among  the  Romans,  the  trophy  of  hon- 
our, that  encircled  the  brows  of  a  victorious  general. 


EULOGY 


ON  THE  LIFE  OF 


GENERAL  GEORGE  WASHINGTON. 


EULOGY. 


AMERICANS, 


J.  HE  Saviour  of  your  country  has  obtained  his  last  victory. 
Having  reached  the  summit  of  human  perfection,  he  has  quit- 
ted the  region  of  human  glory.  Conqueror  of  time,  he  has 
triumphed  over  mortality ;  Legate  of  Heaven,  he  has  returned 
with  the  tidings  of  his  mission  ;  Father  of  his  people,  he  has 
ascended  to  advocate  their  cause  in  the  bosom  of  his  God. 
Solemn,  "  as  it  were  a  pause  in  nature,"  was  his  transit  to 
eternity ;  thronged  by  the  shades  of  heroes,  his  approach  to 
the  confines  of  bliss  ;  paeanedby  the  song  of  angels,  his  jour- 
ney beyond  the  stars  ! 

The  voice  of  a  grateful  and  afflicted  people  has  pronounced 
the  eulogium  of  their  departed  hero  ;  "first  in  war,  first  in 
fieace,  first  in  the  hearts  of  his  countrymen"  That  this  exalt- 
ed tribute  is  justly  clue  to  his  memory,  the  scar-honoured 
veteran,  who  has  fought  under  the  banners  of  his  glory,  the 
enraptured  statesman,  who  has  bowed  to  the  dominion  of  his 
eloquence,  the  hardy  cultivator,  whose  soil  has  been  defended 
42 


330  EULOGY  ON  WASHINGTON. 

by  the  prodigies  of  his  valour,  the  protected  citizen,  whose 
peaceful  rights  have  been  secured  by  the  vigilance  of  his 
wisdom ;  yea,  every  fibre,  that  can  vibrate  in  the  heart  of  an 
American,  will  attest  with  agonized  sensibility. 

Born  to  direct  the  destiny  of  empires,  his  character  was  as 
majestick,  as  the  events,  to  which  it  was  attached,  were  illus- 
trious. In  the  delineation  of  its  features,  the  vivid  pencil  of 
Genius  cannot  brighten  a  trait,  nor  the  blighting  breath  of  Cal- 
umny obscure.  His  principles  were  the  result  of  organick 
philosophy,  his  success  of  moral  justice.  His  integrity  as- 
sumed the  port  of  command,  his  intelligence,  the  aspect  of 
inspiration.  Glory,  to  many  impregnable,  he  obtained  without 
ambition ;  popularity,  to  all  inconstant,  he  enjoyed  without 
jealousy.  The  one  was  his  from  admiration,  the  other  from 
gratitude.  The  former  embellished,  but  could  not  reward  ; 
the  latter  followed,  but  never  could  lead  him.  The  robust 
vigour  of  his  virtue,  like  the  undazzled  eye  of  the  Eagle,  was 
inaccessible  to  human  weakness ;  and  the  unaspiring  tem- 
perament of  his  passions,  like  the  regenerating  ashes  of  the 
Phoenix,  gave  new  life  to  the  greatness,  it  could  not  extinguish. 
In  the  imperial  dignity  of  his  person  was  exhibited  the  august 
stature  of  his  mind  : 

"  See  what  a  grace  was  seated  on  his  brow, 
An  eye  like  Mars,  the  front  ofjove  himself, 
A  combination,  and  a  form  indeed, 
Where  every  God  did  seem  to  set  his  seai, 
To  give  the  world  assurance  of  a  man  !" 


EULOGY  ON  WASHINGTON.  331 

Oppressed  by  the  disconsolate  sensibilities,  which  this  mel- 
ancholy occasion  has  excited,  yet  inspired  by  a  veneration, 
which  no  sense  of  calamity  can  suspend,  how  shall  the  feeble 
eulogist  of  the  moment  retrace  the  path  of  the  hero  through 
the  rugged  acclivities  of  his  fame ;  how  shadow  the  outlines 
of  a  life,  whose  influence  .on  society  has  baffled  the  imitation 
of  the  wise  ;  how  define  the  great  proportions  of  a  character, 
which,  like  the  electrick  principle,  can  only  be  described  by 
its  effects  ?  What  wing  of  human  description  shall  soar  to 
the  unclouded  height  of  his  talents,  what  chemistry  of  human 
judgment  shall  separate  the  elements  of  his  virtues  ?  The 
magnificence  of  his  deeds  has  outvied  the  heraldry  of  fancy  ; 
and  the  purity  of  his  motives  has  bewildered  the  deductions 
of  reason. 

From  his  first  appearance  on  the  theatre  of  publick  life, 
ere  the  modest  simplicity  of  enterprize  had  invited  the  deco- 
rations of  artificial  honour,  ere  the  "  hair-breadth  escapes"  of 
the  Monongahcla  had  elicited  the  native  energies  of  heroism, 
to  the  maturest  era  of  his  excellence,  when  victory  had  noth- 
ing left  to  bestow,  and  Fame  herself  had  dispaired  of  render- 
ing to  his  merits  their  equivalent  reward,  we  behold  the  same 
undeviating  course  of  magnanimous  action,  rising,  like  the 
sun,  in  gradual  and  majestick  progression.  In  no  situation, 
to  which  the  emergencies  of  his  country  have  called  him, 
however  insulated  with  peril,  or  fortified  by  prosperity,  do  we 
at  any  time  detect  his  invincible  equanimity  modified  by  inci- 
dent. In  no  climax  of  fortune  do  we  behold  him  dejected 
by  obstacle,  or  elevated  by  success ;  desperate  in  danger,  or 


332  EULOGY  ON  WASHINGTON. 

sanguine  in  triumph.  Deliberate  to  concert,  he  was  vigorous 
to  execute ;  intrepid  to  conquer,  he  was  humane  to  forgive. 
In  council,  he  united  the  calculations  of  the  veteran  to  the 
ruling  impulse  of  the  patriot :  in  battle,  he  never  shed  the 
blood  of  an  enemy,  but  for  victory,  nor  gained  a  victory,  but  for 
his  country. 

As  the  director  of  that  important  and  dubious  contest,  which 
issued  in  the  establishment  of  our  liberty  and  independence, 
he  displayed  an  impressive  grandeur  of  exertion,  which  mar- 
shalled into  hostility  the  fluctuating  vigour  of  his  countrymen, 
and  is  still  remembered  with  awe  in  the  astonishment  of 
nations.  To  the  rapacious  cabinet  of  the  mother  country, 
which  had  recently  learnt,  in  the  disastrous  campaign  of  Brad- 
dock,  that  her  glory  was  mortal,  he  had  given  his  name  a 
formidable  estimation  by  his  military  prowess  on  that  memor- 
able occasion.  In  the  enjoyment  of  an  ample  paternal  domain, 
he  was  reposing  under  the  groves  of  fame  and  philosophy, 
when  the  chafed  lion  of  New-England  "  leaped  on  the  daring 
huntsman,  that  had  galled  him,"  and  boldly  bade  defiance  to 
his  power.  The  dawn  of  our  revolution  was  overshadowed 
with  clouds,  that  would  have  damped  the  ardour  of  any  people, 
whose  bosoms  were  noti  nspired  by  the  incontrollable  enthusi- 
asm of  liberty.  But  what  hope  of  success  could  this  high- 
born principle,  though  stimulated  by  injury,  afford  to  the 
unwarlike  peasantry  of  a  country,  without  arms,  without  dis- 
cipline, without  funds,  without  a  leader,  in  contending  with  an 
empire,  whose  policy  and  valour  had  for  centuries  kept  the 
nations  of  Europe  in  its  toils?  Yet,  at  this  inauspicious 


EULOGY  ON  WASHINGTON.  333 

juncture,  when  every  prospect  was  enveloped  with  disaster, 
when  unsuccessful  opposition  could  promise  no  reward,  but 
aggravated  oppression,  when  political  infidelity  had  almost 
chilled  with  dismay  the  kindling  fervour  of  Americans  ;  at 
this  moment,  so  potentous,  so  gloomy,  did  the  calm,  inflexible, 
unassimilating  Washington,  relinquish  without  reluctance  the 
magnificent  retirement  of  wealth  and  honour  ;  and,  committing 
to  the  hazard  of  the  contest  the  pleasures,  that  allured  him  to 
seclusion,  and  the  character,  that  attached  him  to  life,  appealed 
to  the  God  of  armies  to  attest  a  soldier's  oath,  "  /  will  triumph^ 
or  die  with  my  countrymen  !"  Animated  by  his  guiding  intel- 
ligence, America  awoke  to  the  consciousness  of  her  powers; 
and,  realising  the  boast  of  the  Roman  hero,  an  army,  organized 
by  his  creative  discipline,  arose  at  his  command.  • 

Through  the  vicissitudes  of  war,  singularly  fluctuating  in 
its  fortunes,  and  desolating  in  its  effects,  he  discovered  a  con- 
stant principle  of  action,  which  acquired  no  lustre  from  the 
brilliant  exploits,  it  achieved,  but  derived  all  its  glory  from  its 
own  original  greatness.  Self-dependent  and  self-elevated,  it 
disdained  the  fictitious  aid  of  circumstance  ;  and  never  did  it 
shine  with  more  splendour  and  energy,  than  when  fortune  had 
deserted  him,  and  his  country  had  despaired.  The  activity  of 
a  fortitude,  whose  stability  was  reason,  invigorated  the  opera- 
tions of  an  intellect,  whose  object  was  liberty.  What  but  this 
invincible  constitution  of  soul,  whose  gigantick  philosophy 
always  rose  with  the  difficulties,  it  encountered,  could  have 
sustained  the  drooping  cause  of  an  half-conquered  people,  at 
that  momentous  and  almost  hopeless  crisis,  when  the  banks 


334  EULOGY  ON  WASHINGTON. 

of  the  Delaware  were  lined  by  a  triumphant  enemy,  impatient 
for  our  subjugation ;  when  the  ranks  of  our  brave  defenders, 
thinned  by  battle,  by  famine  and  retreat,  crimsoned  their  flying 
encampments  with  the  blood  of  their  foot-steps  ;  when  the 
fate  of  a  continent  was  suspended  on  the  incredible  exertions 
of  a  night,  and  a  conspiracy  of  the  elements  opposed  the  prog- 
ress of  the  eventful  enterprize  !  The  mind,  that  was  inacces- 
sible to  despair,  was  invulnerable  to  disaster ;  and  at  the 
instant,  when  the  fangs  of  our  Invader  were  unclutched  to 
fasten  on  his  prey,  when  his  pampered  ambition  was  gloating 
on  the  spoils  of  unconditional  submission,  the  distant  thunder 
of  the  cannon  at  Trenton  aroused  him  from  his  dreams  of 
dominion,  and  convinced  him,  that  the  resources  of  a  WASH- 
INGTON were  not  to  be  computed  by  the  extent  of  his 
entrenchments,  nor  his  activity  to  be  palsied  by  a  campaign  of 
disasters. 

To  the  pen  of  the  historian  must  be  resigned  the  more 
arduous  and  elaborate  tribute  of  justice  to  those  efforts  of  he- 
roick  and  political  virtue,  which  conducted  the  American 
people  to  peace  and  liberty.  The  vanquished  foe  retired  from 
our  respiring  shores,  and  left  to  the  controuling  Genius,  who 
repelled  them,  the  gratitude  of  his  own  country,  and  the  admi- 
ration of  the  world.  The  time  had  now  arrived,  which  was 
to  apply  the  touchstone  to  his  integrity  ;  which  was  to  assay 
the  affinity  of  his  principles  to  the  standard  of  immutable  right. 
Enjoying  the  unbounded  confidence  of  an  emancipated  people, 
whose  filial  reverence  had  associated  in  his  character  a  great- 
ness, unexampled  by  patriotism,  with  a  purity,  unsunned  by 


EULOGY  ON  WASHINGTON.  335 

suspicion ;  and  commanding  the  implicit  affections  of  an  army 
of  veterans,  whose  unliquidated  demands,  on  the  justice  of  an 
impoverished  publick,  might  have  rendered  them  zealous 
instruments  of  ambition  ;  the  deliverer  of  his  country  was  now 
the  arbiter  of  its  fate.  It  was  now  the  flood-tide  of  his  glory, 
on  which  he  had  only  to  embark,  and  the  current  would  have 
wafted  him  to  his  haven.  That  decisive  moment  in  the  exist- 
ence of  nations  and  men,  on  which  the  destinies  of  both  are 
suspended,  was  now  flitting  on  the  dial's  point  of  the  crisis. 
On  the  one  hand,  a  realm,  to  which  he  was  endeared  by  his 
services,  almost  invited  him  to  empire  :  on  the  other,  the  lib- 
erty, to  whose  protection  his  life  had  been  devoted,  was  the 
ornament  and  boon  of  human  nature.  Washington  could  not 
depart  from  his  own  great  self.  His  country  was  free  ;  he 
was  no  longer  a  general  I  Sublime  spectacle !  more  elevating 
to  the  pride  of  virtue,  than  the  sovreignty  of  the  globe  united 
to  the  sceptre  of  ages  !  Enthroned  in  the  hearts  of  his  country- 
men, the  gorgeous  pageantry  of  prerogative  was  unworthy  the 
majesty  of  his  dominion.  That  effulgence  of  military  charac- 
ter, which  in  ancient  states  has  blasted  the  rights  of  the  people, 
whose  renown  it  had  brightened,  was  not  here  permitted,  by 
the  hero,  from  whom  it  emanated,  to  shine  with  so  destructive 
a  lustre.  Its  beams,  though  intensely  resplendent,  did  not 
wither  the  young  blossoms  of  our  independence ;  and  liberty, 
like  the  burning  bush,  flourished,  unconsumed  by  the  glory, 
which  surrounded  it. 


336  EULOGY  OX  WASHINGTON*. 

To  the  illustrious  founder  of  our  republick  was  it  reserved, 
to  exhibit  the  example  of  a  magnanimity,  that  commanded 
victory  ;  of  a  moderation,  that  retired  from  triumph.  Unlike 
the  erratick  meteors  of  ambition,  whose  flaming  path  sheds  a 
disastrous  light  on  the  pages  of  history,  his  bright  orb,  eclips- 
ing the  luminaries,  among  which  it  rolled,  never  portended 
"  fearful  change"  to  religion,  nor  from  its  "  golden  tresses" 
shook  pestilence  on  empire.  What  to  other  heroes  has  been 
glory,  would  to  him  have  been  disgrace.  To  his  intrepidity 
it  would  have  added  no  honorary  trophy,  to  have  waded,  like 
the  conqueror  of  Peru,  through  the  blood  of  credulous  mil- 
lions, to  plant  the  standard  of  triumph  at  the  burning  mouth 
of  a  volcano  1  To  his  fame  it  would  have  erected  no  auxiliary 
monument,  to  have  invaded,  like  the  ravager  of  Egypt,  an 
innocent,  though  barbarous  nation,  to  inscribe  his  name  on 
the  pillar  of  Pompey  ! 

Self,  the  grand  hinge,  on  which  revolve  the  principles  and 
passions,  that  have  swelled  the  obituary  of  nations,  made  not 
an  unit  in  the  calculations  of  a  mind,  which  considered  gran- 
deur as  the  inseparable  incident  of  rectitude  ;  which  owed  to 
fortune  nothing  of  its  glory,  to  enthusiasm  nothing  of  its  virtue. 
From  "  heaven's  high  chancery"  had  issued  his  commission ; 
he  obeyed  the  Godlike  precept,  it  contained ;  he  created  a 
nation  !  The  glorious  work  completed,  so  was  his  ambition. 
The  reward  of  his  labours  was  the  enjoyment  of  that  liberty, 
he  had  protected  from  violation  ;  and  the  boast  of  his  pride 
was  the  cultivation  of  that  soil,  he  had  defended  from  subjec- 


EULOGY  ON  WASHINGTON.  337 

tion.  Amid  the  fondest  caresses  of  fame,  that  pursued  him 
to  retirement,-— blush,— ye  heroick  murderers  of  mankind  1 
never  did  the  transcendent  Washington,  on  the  pinnacle  of  his 
greatness,  deign  to  be  conscious,  that  by  his  talents  his  country 
was  free,  that  in  her  glory  himself  was  immortal ! 

Publick  opinion  has,  in  all  ages,  been  as  volatile,  as  the  air 
that  wafts  it ;  and  the  fate,  which  has  attended  the  benefactors 
of  their  country,  has  been  as  chequered,  as  the  passions,  and 
perverse,  as  the  ingratitude  of  man.  A  tyrant,  sainted  by  the 
people,  he  had  enslaved,  has  been  elevated  to  a  niche  in  the 
Pantheon  ;  while  a  hero,  whose  talents  and  services  had  prop- 
ped a  falling  empire,  has  found  at  last  a  more  faithful  friend 
in  the  mastiff,  that  conducted  him,  than  in  the  nation  he  had 
protected.  But  it  has  been  the  peculiar  lot  of  a  WASHING- 
TON, to  unite  to  an  integrity,  which  could  impeach  the  ambi- 
tion of  malice,  the  vigilance  of  an  enterprise,  which  could 
arrest  the  decisions  of  fortune.  Through  the  long  labours 
of  a  life,  which  forms  an  epoch  in  history,  never  for  a  moment 
was  he  rivalled  in  the  affections  of  his  countrymen  ;  and  to  the 
honour  of  Americans  be  it  recorded,  that  their  gratitude  to 
the  man,  who  had  established  their  independence,  existed,  at 
the  period  of  impending  anarchy,  the  only  cementing  bond  of 
union,  which  preserved  their  jarring  interests  from  a  destruc- 
tive collission. 

The  temporary  structure  of  the  old  confederation,  which 
had  been  planned  merely  for  the  purposes  of  a  revolutionary 
government,  when  the   passions  of  the  people  were  united, 
43 


338  EULOGY  frNT  WASHINGTON, 

was  found,  upon  a  brief  experiment,  to  be  totally  incompetent, 
to  direct  the  affairs  of  an  extending  iiation,  when  peace  had 
restored  the  complicated  occupations  of  life,  and  demanded  a 
more  uniform  protection  from  the  energies  of  law.  The  in- 
conveniences, resulting  from  its  defects,  had  given  occasion 
to  designing  demagogues,  who  hoped  to  profit  by  a  separation 
of  the  states,  to  foment  divisions  among  a  people,  who  too 
lightly  valued  the  blessings,  they  enjoyed.  The  union  of  the 
country  was  in  danger ;  and  the  evil  was  of  too  baneful  a  na- 
ture to  admit  of  a  partial  or  dilatory  remedy.  But,  how  novel, 
how  aspiring,  was  the  hope  of  connecting,  under  one  compact 
code  of  general  jurisprudence,  so  many  distinct  sovereignties, 
each  jealous  of  its  independence,  without  impairing  their  re- 
spective authorities  ?  The  unbalanced  bodies  of  the  confeder- 
acy, had  almost  overcome  th^  attracting  powers,  that  restrained 
them ;  when  the  watchful  guardian  of  his  country's  interests, 
the  heart-uniting  WASHINGTON  appeared,  the  political  magnet 
in  the  centre  of  discord,  and  reconciled  and  consolidated  the 
clashing  particles  of  the  system  in  an  indissoluble  union  of 
government. 

Possessing,  as  well  from  experience,  as  intuition,  the  master 
science,  that  could  direct  the  impulses  of  human  action ; 
and  invested,  by  the  crowded  benefactions  of  a  life  of  glory, 
with  a  charm  of  eloquence,  which  impressed  the  convictions 
of  reason  on  the  pliant  gratitude  of  his  countrymen ;  he  ruled 
in  the  counsels  of  that  august  body  of  statesmen  and  patriots, 
the  fruit  of  whose  co-operating  talents  was  the  present  consti- 


EULOGY  ON  WASHINGTON.  339 

tution  of  America.  By  the  unanimous  suffrage  of  an  enlight- 
ening and  confiding  people,  appointed  to  the  administration  of 
a  government,  in  whose  construction  he  had  exerted  so  bene- 
ficial an  influence,  he  brought  to  the  execution  of  that  impor- 
tant and  arduous  trust,  the  energy  of  a  mind,  whose  elevation 
could  borrow  no  dignity  from  station,  and  the  integrity  of  a 
heart,  whose  sensibility  could  receive  no  bias,  but  from  his 
country.  With  what  wisdom  and  vigour  he  discharged  the 
hazardous  and  thronging  duties  of  an  incipient  magistracy,  the 
revival  of  political  harmony,  the  extended  confidence  of  com- 
merce, the  unexampled  increase  of  national  credit  and  wealth, 
and  the  happiness  and  morality  of  the  people,  will  furnish  a 
more  satisfactory  evidence,  than  the  most  brilliant  description 
of  the  panegyrist.  In  this  unprecedented  transition  of  office, 
his  character  has  assumed  a  new  and  astonishing  attitude ; 
the  impenetrable  hardihood  of  the  conqueror  was  rivalled  by 
the  intelligent  policy  of  the  statesman.  Pierced  by  the  glance 
of  his  administration,  Party,  like  the  recreant  eye  of  the  felon, 
shrunk  abashed  from  his  scrutiny  ;  and,  unnerved  by  the  sanc- 
tity of  his  person,  Degeneracy,  like  the  viper  at  Melita,  fell 
harmless  from  his  hand.  Appaled  by  the  oppressive  contem- 
plation of  his  gratitude,  the  "cloudcapt"  crest  of  Ambition 
was  overawed  by  the  majesty  of  virtue  ;  and,  maddened  to 
desperation  by  the  invulnerable  purity  of  his  life,  the  snakes 
of  Envy  recoiled  upon  the  head  of  their  mistress,  and  burrow- 
ed to  the  brain,  that  supplied  their  venonv 


340  EULOGY  ON  WASHINGTON. 

Exemplar  of  heroes  !  in  what  favoured  nation  or  era  shall 
the  exulting  philanthropist  record  the  existence  of  a  character, 
uniting,  like  thine,  in  one  bright  constellation  of  talents,  every 
civick  and  military  glory,  that  blazons  in  legend,  or  beams  in 
history  !  Should  we  search  in  the  achives  of  classick  antiquity, 
we  might  find  a  wise  and  venerable  Fabius,  who,  like  thee, 
could  "  save  a  nation  by  delay  ;"  but  never,  like  thee,  could 
seize  victory  by  enterprise,  and  outstride  fortune  by  the  fore- 
sight of  philosophy  !  We  might  behold  the  majestick  Cincin- 
natus,  who,  like  thee,  in  the  vigour  of  Roman  heroism,  could 
return,  from  the  conquest  of  his  country's  enemies,  to  his 
humble  Mount  Vernon  beyond  the  Tyber ;  but  never,  like 
thee,  to  protect  from  faction  the  liberties,  he  had  wrested  from 
invasion !  We  might  trace  the  great  Julius,  extending  the 
terror  of  his  eagles  through  realms,  before  unshadowed  by 
their  pinions  ;  we  might  follow  him  to  the  forum,  and  listen 
to  an  eloquence,  like  thine,  when  applauding  senates  instinctly 
moved  at  his  controul ;  but  where,  in  the  map  of  thy  victories, 
shall  we  find  the  banks  of  a  Rubicon  ! 

Encumbered  with  honours,  the  father  of  his  country  once 
more  returned  to  the  unambitious  abodes  of  his  affection,  fol- 
lowed by  the  tears  and  blessings  of  his  fellow-citizens  !  The 
glory,  which  had  encircled  the  scenes  of  his  action,  could 
not  be  excluded  by  the  solitude  of  retirement.  He  had  de- 
vested  the  insignia  of  command,  but  his  empire  was  not 
diminished.  He  had  surrendered  the  badges  of  fame,  but 
the  gaze  of  the  world  did  not  suspend  its  veneration.  The 


EULOGY  ON  WASHINGTON.  341 

name  of  WASHINGTON  was  still  a  battlement  to  his  country, 
under  whose  protection  liberty  exulted ;  at  whose  terrors  hos- 
tility trembled. 

Though  remote  from  the  causes  of  European  contest,  yet 
affected  by  the  convulsions,  it  excited,  in  vain  had  our  nation 
attempted  to  maintain  with  honour  an  unprotected  neutrality. 
Piracy  plundered  the  ocean  ;  Invasion  threatened  our  shores. 
Again,  were  the  eyes  of  America  directed  with  trembling 
solicitude  to  her  venerable  deliverer ;  and,  again  did  this  man 
without  example,  this  patriot  without  reproach,  whose  life 
was  his  country,  whose  glory  was  mankind,  resign  with  alac- 
rity to  the  cause,  he  had  sworn  to  defend,  the  tranquil  hope 
of  repose,  to  which  he  had  devoted  the  unclouded  evening  of  a 
life  of  toils  !  The  character  was  perfect !  WASHINGTON  now 
touched  "  the  highest  point  of  all  his  greatness."  A  more 
than  human  splendour  surrounded  him.  The  etherial  spirit 
of  his  virtues  towered  above  the  globe,  they  adorned,  and 
seemed  to  meditate  their  departure  to  their  native  mansion. 
Of  the  frailty  of  man  nothing  now  remained,  but  his  mortality ; 
and,  having  accomplished  the  embassy  of  a  benevolent  Prov- 
idence ;  having  been  the  founder  of  one  nation,  and  the  sub- 
lime instructor  of  all,  he  took  his  flight  to  Heaven ;  not  like 
Mahomet,  for  his  memory  is  immortal  without  the  fiction  oi' 
a  miracle  ;  not  like  Elijah,  for  recording  time  has  not  regis- 
tered the  man,  on  whom  his  mantle  should  descend  ;  but  in 
humble  imitation  of  that  Omnipotent  Architect,  who  returned 


342  EULOGY  ON  WASHINGTON. 

from  a  created  universe,  to  contemplate  from  his  throne  the 
stupendous  fabrick,  he  had  erected  ! 

The  august  form,  whose  undaunted  majesty  could  arrest 
the  lightening,  ere  it  fell  on  the  bosom  of  his  country,  now 
sleeps  in  silent  ruin,  untenanted  of  its  celestial  essence.  But 
the  incorruptible  example  of  his  virtues  shall  survive,  unim- 
paired by  the  corrosion  of  time  ;  and  acquire  new  vigour  and 
influence,  from  the  crimes  of  ambition,  and  the  decay  of  em- 
pires. The  invaluable  valediction,  bequeathed  to  the  people, 
who  inherited  his  affections,  is  the  effort  of  a  mind,  whose 
powers,  like  those  of  prophecy,  could  overleap  the  tardy  pro- 
gress of  human  reason,  and  unfold  truth  without  the  labour  of 
investigation.  Impressed  in  indelible  characters,  this  Legacy 
of  his  intelligence  will  descend,  unsullied  as  its  purity,  to  the 
wonder  and  instruction  of  succeeding  generations ;  and,  should 
the  mild  philosophy  of  its  maxims  be  ingrafted  into  the  policy 
of  nations?  at  no  distant  period  will  the  departed  hero,  who 
now  lives  only  in  the  spotless  splendour  of  his  own  great 
actions,  exist  in  the  happiness  and  dignity  of  mankind. 

The  sighs  of  contemporary  gratitude  have  attended  the 
Sublime  Spirit  to  its  paternal  abode  ;  and  the  prayers  of 
ameliorated  posterity  will  ascend  in  glowing  remembrance  of 
their  illustrious  benefactor  !  The  laurels,  that  now  droop,  as 
they  shadow  his  tomb  with  monumental  glory,  will  be  culti- 
vated by  the  tears  of  ages  ;  and,  embalmed  in  the  heart  of  an 
admiring  world,  the  Temple,  erected  to  his  memory,  will  be 
more  glorious,  than  the  pyramids,  and  as  eternal,  as  his  own 
imperishable  virtues. 


COMMUNICATION. 


ON  THE 


BOSTON  FEMALE  ASYLUM. 


The  following  Observations  on  the  Boston  Female  Asylum  were 
first  published,  as  a  Communication,  in  the  Boston  Gazette, 
April  1,  1802. 


"Let  not  the  Orphan  cry, 

Be  Father  to  me,  Heaven!  But  bid  the  cold 
And  houseless  ones,  pining  and  pale  before, 
Beholding  tbee,  pluck  comfort  from  thy  looks ; 

For  he,  who  doth  the  ravens  feed, 

Yea,  providently  caters  for  the  sparrow, 

Will  bless  the  charity,  and  treasure  up 

A  mercy  for  thee,  when  thyself  shalt  need  it!" 

THE  Female  Orphan  Asylum,  originally  projected,  and  now 
honourably  established  by  the  Ladies  of  this  town,  is  undoubt- 
edly among  those  institutions,  which  do  high  honour  to  the 
human  heart,  as  imitating  an  attribute  of  divine  benevolence, 
u  in  tempering  the  wind  to  the  shorn  lamb  ;"  but  it  is  also 
among  those  inventions  of  policy,  which  are  marked  by  histo- 
rians, as  features  of  the  times,  characterizing  human  society, 
and  evincing  the  state  of  civilization.  To  the  Ladies  of  Bos- 
ton, most  exquisite  must  be  the  reward  of  their  munificence. 
But  their  praise  is  not  of  words.  When  I  was  young,  some 
of  the  sex  persuaded  me  to  believe  myself  a  Poet ;  but  I  can- 
not recollect  a  moment,  either  lucid  or  delirious,  throughout 
44 


346  COMMUNICATION  ON  THE 

the  frolick  season  of  my  youthful  vanity,  when  Fancy  was  bold 
enough  to  attempt  their  panegyrick  on  such  an  occasion.  But 
in  their  closets  they  will  often  unexpectedly  meet  a  silent 
Commentator,  sitting  in  the  judgment-seat  of  memory,  penning 
reflections  on  Female  virtue,  and  writing  fairer  lines  of  Eulogy, 
than  ever  flowed  from  the  lips  of  "  Bard  inspired."  In  their 
excursions  too,  among  the  walks  of  wretchedness  and  inno- 
cence, relieved  and  protected,  they  will  often  be  compelled  to 
see  and  to  feel,  how  eloquent  is  Nature.  Theirs  shall  be  the 
pearly  offering  of  humble,  yet  proud  thankfulness.  The  tear, 
which  trickles  down  the  little  Orphan's  cheek,  glittering  with 
the  reflected  smile  of  its  benefactress,  is  a  pearl  of  more  worth 
than  rubies.  It  is  one  of  nature's  hieroglyphicks,  and  speaks 
in  a  language,  which  the  confusion  of  tongues  did  not  corrupt ; 
though  embellished  and  beautiful,  it  is  without  rhetorical  orna- 
ment ;  and  though  its  address  is  to  the  eye,  where  its  mystery 
is  not  decyphered,  yet  it  rapidly  glides  to  another  tribunal,  and 
dissolves  into  gratitude  at  the  heart. 

To  the  fair  founders  of  this  Institution  will  such  oblations 
be  frequent.  They  will  flatter  not,  and  yet  they  will  flatter 
most  truly  ;  for  they  will  meet  the  consciousness  of  all  female 
hearts,  to  which  they  appeal ;  and  acquire  new  sentiment  and 
pathos,  from  that  recollection  of  good  deeds,  which  inhabits 
those  mansions  of  peace. 

To  complete  the  benevolent  plan,  which  the  Ladies  of  Bos- 
ton have  so  zealously  espoused  and  promoted,  a  few  Gentle- 
men of  the  metropolis  have  lately  offered  their  assistance ; 
and  their  attention  has  been  very  honourably  directed  to  the 


BOSTON  FEMALE  ASYLUM.  347 

erection  of  an  Orphan  House.  To  men,  ranging  in  spheres 
of  active  life,  and  who  ought  not,  without  motives  of  poignancy, 
to  "  shake  off  the  busy  coil"  of  commerce,  a  brief  explication 
of  the  views,  contemplated  by  the  founders  of  the  "  Asylum," 
seems  to  be  due  ;  as  it  is  confidently  believed,  such  a  disclo- 
sure will  insure  their  cordial  co-operation. 

Female  Orphans,  from  three  to  ten  years  of  age,  are  admit- 
ted into  the  Asylum,  and  are  the  only  objects  of  its  institution. 
They  are  here  placed  under  the  tuition  of  a  Governess,  and  are 
instructed  in  all  the  useful  branches  of  domestick  education, 
nurtured  in  habits  of  decorum,  order  and  morality,  accom- 
plished only  in  the  graces  of  female  modesty  and  virtue,  reg- 
ularly convened  in  the  House  of  Divine  Worship,  and  snatched 
from  the  adulterations  of  modern  philosophism  by  the  hand 
of  religion, 

"  Pointing  through  Nature,  up  to  Nature's  God." 

At  the  age  of  ten  years,  these  children  are  placed  in  proper 
families,  chosen  by  the  Trustees  of  the  "  Asylum,"  to  con- 
tinue for  the  term  of  eight  years  ;  and,  though  here  removed 
from  their  immediate  controul  and  inspection,  they  are  still 
under  their  parental  protection.  If  the  family,  in  which  an 
Orphan  is  placed,  is  unsuitable,  either  by  reason  of  improper 
management,  or  ill  usage,  the  Trustees  will  remove  the  girl 
to  a  proper  situation,  till  the  completion  of  her  probatory  term. 
During  this  period  of  her  service,  the  providence  of  the  insti- 
tution still  hovers  over  her.  Sensations  of  gratitude  prompt 
her  to  obedience.  Reared  to  be  respected,  and  to  be  loved, 
she,  in  return,  respects  her  liberal  superiours,  and  loves  those. 


348  COMMUNICATION  ON  THE 

principles,  by  which  she  has  been  protected.  Familiar  with 
the  duties  of  domestick  scenes,  she  becomes  an  important 
character  in  society ;  and  having  been  herself  the  foster-child 
of  humanity,  she  associates  the  ideas  of  charity  and  of  duty : 
and  is  taught  to  consider  social  life,  as  a  supplement  to  the 
degrees  of  consanguinity,  designed  to  connect  those  by  the 
kindred  of  virtue,  whom  nature  has  separated.  Abandoned 
by  unfeeling  wealth,  she  might  have  sunk  under  the  contempt 
of  neglect,  and,  by  a  sort  of  moral  retaliation,  retorted  upon  that 
stern  world  the  only  punishment,  left  in  the  revenge  of  female 
misery,  a  career  of  vice  and  infamy  !  But  now  adopted  by  one 
sex,  respected  by  the  other,  aloof  from  the  persecution  of  scorn, 
and  lifted  into  character  by  the  animations  of  benevolence,  she 
repays  the  debt  of  gratitude,  she  contracted  in  her  infancy,  by 
a  life  of  virtue  and  usefulness.  Gentlemen,  who  are  heads  of 
families,  will,  I  am  sure,  give  weight  to  these  reflections.  The 
morals  of  that  class  of  females,  who  are  commonly  employed 
in  the  service  of  families,  are  of  the  highest  importance  to 
society.  From  their  domestick  situation,  their  manners  are 
of  greater  moment,  than  the  value  of  their  capacity.  No  com- 
plaint is  at  present  more  general,  or  more  lamentable,  than 
the  outcry  against  the  profligacy  and  ignorance  of  female  ser- 
vants. This  is  truly  to  be  regretted.  The  link,  which  con- 
nects the  master  and  the  servant,  is  one  of  the  strongest  bonds 
of  society.  Reward  and  gentleness  oil  the  one  part,  attach- 
ment and  service  on  the  other,  are  correlative  terms.  But  the 
relation  itself  scarcely  now  exists  in  our  country.  Establish 
the  « Female  Asylum,"  on  its  contemplated  plan,  and  the 


BOSTON  FEMALE  ASYLUM.  349 

chasm  in  the  social  connexion  is  filled  up.    Females  in  that 
order  of  life  will  be  entitled  to  our  respect ;  and  female  ser- 
vice, instead  of  being,  as  it  now  is,  an  appellation  of  disgrace, 
will  become  a  badge  of  honourable  distinction.     To  effect  this 
fair,  and  desirable  purpose,  the  erection  of  an  Orphan  House, 
is  indispensably  essential.      The  obvious  necessity  of  it  needs 
no  argument  to  advocate   it  in   the  mind   of  the   humane. 
Even  if  its   sole  and  ultimate  object  was  the  protection  and 
shelter  of  these   unhappy  and   deserted  children,   from   the 
inclemency  of  the  elements,  or  the  biting  blasts  of  misery, 
what  heart  can  resist  the  application  ?  How  often  has  the  man 
of  wealth,  with  aching  pity,   beheld  the  weeping,  houseless 
one,  wandering  through  the  deep  severity  of  winter,  shivering 
in  rags  and  penury,  to  beg  the  refuse  morsel,  or  the  cast  off* 
garment  ?     How  oft  has  the  man  of  sensibility  exclaimed, 
"  Mine  enemy's  dog,  even  if  he  had  bitten  me,  should  sleep 
by  my  fire  side,  on  such  a  day  as  this.'*  The  erection  of  such 
an  edifice  combines  every  motive,  either  moral  or  humane, 
which   compels   human   action.      To   the  Philosopher,  who 
stands  insulated  from  society,  and  views  man  in  the  bustle  of 
life,  like  a  moat  upon  a  whirlwind,  the  slave  of  accident,  deriv- 
ing his  course  from  the  current,  in  which  he  swims ;  even  to 
this  stern  and  stoical  observer  the  petition  of  these  Orphans 
has  a  charm,  which  can  melt  the  austerity  of  his  wisdom. 
For  though  he   may  not  expect  benefit  to  himself  from  the 
relief  of  these  innocents,  he  yet  will  like  to  make  an  experi- 
ment upon  his  own  heart,  by  a  practical  application  of  one  of 
his  favourite  apothegms, 

"  Twere  good  to  do  so  much  for  charity.*' 


THEATRICAL    CRITICISMS. 


THEATRICAL    CRITICISMS. 


The  following  critiques  were  published,  from  time  to  time,  during 
the  winter  of  1808,  in  a  weekly  miscellany,  called  the  Times  ; 
they  were  there  printed  in  numbers,  under  the  name  of  the 
"Theatre." 


"  Nothing  extenuate,  nor  set  down  aught  in  malice." 

A  HE  interesting  Drama  of  "  Adrian  and  Orilla,"  has  been 
performed  thrice  in  succession,  with  correctness,  ability  and 
applause.  It  is  a  Play  formed  on  the  German  model,  and 
abounds  with  poetick  description  ;  yet  it  is  enlivened  by  occa- 
sional coruscations  of  wit,  and  addressed  to  the  feelings  by 
many  masterly  touches  of  nature. 

Of  the  respective  performers  we  do  not  pretend  to  offer  a 
minute  examination ;  but  so  strongly  impressed  are  we  with 
the  uncommon  accuracy  and  force  of  the  representation,that  we 
are  willing  to  subscribe,  without  cynical  deduction,  to  the  merit 
of  most  of  the  principal  agents  in  the  scene.  Verbal  criticism 
is  extremely  useful  to  the  stage,  in  correcting  the  vices  of 
45 


354  THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

pronunciation,  or  the  errors  of  emphasis  ;  but  in  this  extraor- 
dinary instance  of  excellency, 

"  We  can't  catch  words, — and  pity  those  who  can !" 

In  such  cases,  where  the  examples,  of  merit  or  defect,  are 
general,  one  comment,  well  defined,  is  fully  as  competent  to 
the  just  purposes  of  praise  or  censure,  as  an  elaborate  disser- 
tation on  points  of  effect,  which  the  author  never  conceived,  or 
a  stop-watch  lecture,  from  the  doctrine  of  pauses,  on  the  dif- 
ference between  a  comma  and  a  colon,  which  many  of  the 
performers  do  not  understand  !  Our  remarks,  therefore,  shall 
be  composed  of  extracts  from  the  "  brief  chronicles*'  of  criti- 
cism. 

Mrs.  Stanley's  performance  of  "  Orilla,"  exhibite  j  new  and 
almost  unexpected  proofs  of  the  diversity  as  well,  as  power 
of  her  genius.  In  courtly  or  arch  Comedy,  where  taste 
requires  elegance  of  dress,  language  and  deportment,  and  wit 
needs  a  skilful  archer  to  give  wing  and  direction  to  her 
arrows,  the  palm  of  preeminence  has  long  been  conceded  to 
her  by  the  general  consent  of  all  critical  or  fashionable  tribu- 
nals. But  in  "  Orilla,"  she  combined  such  expressive  sim- 
plicity with  such  well-delineated  tenderness,  that  we  could 
not  but  feel  the  conviction,  produced  by  her  loveliness  and 
interest  in  the  character,  that  she  could  never  fail  to  excel  in 
all  tragick  personations  of  love  or  sympathy,  in  which  the 
picture  is  drawn  from  existing  images ;  or  rather,  in  which 
nature  is  permitted  to  walk  the  stage  in  her  own  decent  and 
graceful  apparel,  untortured  by  the  bodices  of  folly,  or  the 
stilts  of  declamation  I  It  is  in  point  to  add,  that,  in  London,  her 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS*  355 

a  Juliet,"  and  "  Cordelia,"  were  considered  good  specimens 
of  this  species  of  tragick  excellence. 

Mrs.  Powell  has  not,  within  our  recollection,  claimed  so 
high  a  rank  in  her  profession,  as  in  "  Madame  Clermont." 
No  character  could  be  better  adapted  to  her  powers,  and  in 
none  has  she  ever  appeared  with  more  commanding  or  endear- 
ing influence.  We  cannot  bestow  a  more  unequivocal  proof  of 
our  admiration,  than  by  acknowledging,  that  the  denouement 
of  the  Play  owed  its  interest  and  impression  to  her  exertions. 

Mrs.  Shaw  gave  the  prattle  and  the  pride,  the  jibes  and 
the  jeers,  of  the  vain,  talkative  "  Githia,"  with  great  vivacity 
.and  effect. 

Mr.  Caulfield  gratified  our  wishes,  and  exceeded  our  hopes. 
We  never  doubted  his  conception  or  his  energy ;  and,  on  this 
occasion,  we  make  a  most  courtly  bow  to  his  memory  !  But, 
without  reverting  to  those  lapses  of  retention  or  defects  of 
study,  which  have  sometimes  obscured  his  fame,  we  are  now 
willing  to  tender  him  our  respect  and  praise. 

Of  the  "  Count  Rosenheim,"  by  Mr.  Usher,  we  shall  not 
retail  the  censures  we  every  where  heard ;  but  shall  beg  him 
to  reconsider  the  part ;  for,  at  present,  his  conception  is  as 

'much  out  of  character,  as  his  dress.     Neither  of  them  came 
from  the  Count  of  Saxony  ! 

Mr.  Fox's  "  Adrian"  had  more  of  passion,  than  distinc- 
tion. It  is  his  common  fault  to  blaze,  without  directing  his 
fire.  Yet,  as  there  are  some  beings  in  the  theatre,  and  sono- 
rous ones  too,  who  cannot  kindle  upon  any  occasion,  we  con- 
fess we  are  delighted  with  a  scenick  explosion,  even  if  it  have 


356  THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

no  other  object,  than  the  emancipation  of  fixed  air  !  But,  with- 
out a  jest,  or  what  is  more,  without  chymistry,  (for  even  her 
power  has  nothing  to  do  with  such  volatile  particles,  as  escape 
from  analysis,)  we  candidly  allow,  that  Mr.  Fox  in  one  or 
two  scenes,  deserved  high  credit  for  his  spirited  execution. 
Yet  it  is  to  be  regretted,  that  his  glow  of  sentiment,  and  pitch 
of  intonation  had  no  variety.  Fiery  and  unaccommodating, 
his  enthusiasm  perceived  no  diversity  in  the  situations  and 
characters,  with  which  it  was  concerned.  He  breathed  love, 
and  blustered  heroicks,  in  the  same  tyrannick  style  ;  and, 
"  Void  of  distinction^  marked  all  scenes  the  same." 

We  are  tempted  to  depart  from  our  rule  of  general  obser- 
vation, by  an  instance  of  the  nicest  discrimination,  we  ever 
witnessed  on  our  stage.  It  occurred  in  the  scene  between 
"  Orilla"  and  her  father,  in  the  second  act,  when  he  insists  on 
her  marriage  with  "  Altenburgh."  To  ascertain  the  beauty 
of  a  particular  touch  in  a  picture,  its  relation  to  the  whole 
should  be  considered.  At  her  first  interview  with  the  Prince, 
in  reply  to  her  father's  praises  of  him,  she  says,  "  You  fire- 
pared  me.  Sir,  to  admire^resfiect^  and  love  him" 

«  Alt.   To  LOVE  me  Orilla  I 

"  Orilla.  (with  simplicity}  Yes,  like  a  second  FATHER  I" 

In  the  ensuing  scene,  a  delicate  relation  is  had  to  this  expres-  jft 
sion  of  her  filial  affection  to  the  Prince,  in  contradiction  to  that 
sexual  passion,  which  is  the  source  of  the  nuptial  union. 

"  Rosen.  The  Prince  Altenburgh  destines  You  to  become 
his  wife. 

«  Orilla.  Father  ! 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS.  357 

«  Rosen.  Nay,  I  am  not  jesting  ;  on  my  life  'tis  true. 

«  Orilla.  Oh  I  Sir,  spare  me,  forgive  me  ;  but  indeed,  I 
cannot— -marry— Altenburgh ." 

We  have  never  known  an  example  of  more  correct  empha- 
sis. The  nature  of  her  esteem  for  the  Prince  is  distinctly 
illustrated  according  to  the  true  sense  of  the  author.  We 
should  not  have  remarked  this,  but  that  such  delicate  traces 
ef  excellence  are  too  minute  for  common  observation. 


"  Non  seipsum,  sed  vitia  ejus  excidit." 

J.HE  spritely,  entertaining,  and  epigrammatick  comedy  of 
"  Rule  a  Wife  and  have  a  Wife,"  has  kept  a  distinguished  and 
.honourable  possession  of  the  English  stage,  through  many 
successions  of  taste,  revolutions  of  fashion,  and  generations  of 
wit.  It  is  the  joint  production  of  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  who, 
as  in  their  lives  and  affections  they  were  inseparable  compan- 
ions and  inviolable  friends,  have  been,  in  their  works,  very 
justly  denominated  the  Orestes  and  Pylades  of  the  poetick 
world.  The  conduct  of  the  plot  is  most  industriously  busy ; 
the  features  of  the  characters  are  well  diversified  and  defined ; 
and  the  colours  of  the  colloquy  are  strikingly  adapted  to  the 
design  of  the  sketch,  and,  tempered  with  the  correcting  dilu- 
tions of  Garrick,  sufficiently  chaste.  This  play,  therefore, 


358  THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

though  venerable  in  its  renown,  is  even  young  in  its  effect,  on 
the  stage  ;  Dccics  refietita  filacebit. 

Tobin,one  of  the  few  legitimate  and  masculine  writers  for  the 
modern  drama,  one  of  the  few  unyielding  minds,  that  have 
resisted  the  meretricious  innovations  of  a  corrupt,  though 
pampered  taste,  has  unquestionably  copied  from  our  authors 
the  model  of  his  style,  though  he  has  borrowed  the  essence  of 
many  of  his  principle  characters  from  Shakespeare. 

The  performance  of  this  comedy  on  Wednesday  evening, 
was  attended  with  the  high  expectation  of  the  whole  coterie 
of  letters  and  taste,  not  only  from  its  intrinsick  merit,  but 
peculiarly  from  the  uncommon  power  of  talent,  which  was 
enlisted  to  support  its  representation. 

Mr.  Cooper,  as  "  Leon,"  has  always  been  a  very  prominent 
figure  hi  the  piece.  The  character  has  various  attitudes  of 
life,  and  modes  of  deportment ;  all  of  which,  though  equally 
natural,  must  still  be  moulded  and  finished  by  the  exactest 
rules  of  technical  skill.  Hence  arises  the  difficulty  of  the 
portraiture  ;  for  it  is  the  perfection  of  art  to  conceal  art.  The 
praise,  then,  is  of  no  mean  distinction,  when  we  add,  that  his 
strict  preservation  of  the  scene  eminently  assisted  his  contrast 
of  personation.  In  the  first  temporary  instant  of  self-re- 
assumption  to  "Althea,"  he  commanded  a  burst  of  applause 
from  the  suddenness  and  integrity  of  the  transition ;  and  when, 
after  his  marriage  with  "  Margaretta,"  upon  the  arrival  of  the 
intriguing  Duke,  he  entirely  "  threw  his  cloud  off,"  the  dig- 
nified manhood,  mingled  with  the  imposing  gentleness  of  his 
manner,  might  very  naturally  over-awe  the  noble  conspirator 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS.  359 

against  his  family  honour,  while  it  confounded  the  contriving 
forecast  of  the  "  little  piece  of  mischief,"  he  had  espoused. 
The  judicious  and  opportune  gradations,  by  which  he  ascend- 
ed to  this  open  assertion  of  his  marital  rights,  had  given  a, 
previous  but  faint  dawn  of  the  man.  The  mist  of  concealment 
had  begun  to  break  away  in  the  preceding  scene. 

« I  am  your  husband  ; 

But  what  are  husbands  ?  Read  the  new  world's  wonders, 
And  you  shall  scarce  find  such  deformities. 
They're  shadows  to  conceal  your  -venial  virtues ; 
Sails  to  your  mills,  that  grind  on  all  occasions  ; 
Balls,  that  lie  by  you,  to  wash  out  your  stains." 

But, 

" I've  done,  madam ; 

An  ox  once  sfioke,  as  learned  men  deliver,"  &c. 

Upon  the  last  line,  he  fell  back  again  into  his  former  rus- 
ticity of  manner  and  vacuity  of  mind  :  for  the  moment,  the 
plot  glimmered,  but  was  suddenly  hooded  again.  This  was 
a  delicate,  characteristick  stroke  of  the  pencil,  which  evinced 
the  perfect  knowledge  of  the  art. 

In  reply  to  "  Margaretta,"  "  Why,  where* s  the  dinner  ?" 
u  Leon,"  entering  in  his  entire  metamorphosis  of  dress  and 
deportment,  answers  in  the  firm  and  collected  tone  of  a  gen- 
tleman : 

" JTis  not  ready,  madam; 

Nor  shall,  until  /  know  the  guests  too ; 

Nor  are  they  fairly  welcome,  'till  /  bid  them." 


360  THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

The  illusion  of  the  well  dissembled  clown  was  entirely  van- 
ished, without  leaving  behind  one  posthumous  trait ;  and 
the  figure  of  the 

« Understanding,  feeling  man, 

Who,  sensible  of  what  a  woman  aims  at, 
Dared  stand  upon  the  ground  of  his  own  honour," 
was  not  only  depicted,  but  embodied  before  us.    His  discrim- 
ination and  elocution,  throughout  this  whole  scene,  was  of  the 
first  taste  and  impression.     The  speech : 

"  He9  who  dares  strike  against  the  husband's  freedom, 
The  husband's  curse  stick  to  him,"  &c. 

was  delivered  with  that  boldness  of  sentiment  and  truth 
of  feeling,  which  left  the  impetuous  duke  very  little 
appetite  to  "  fall  on,"  when  invited  by  "  I'm  ready  to  oppose 
ye." 

We  might  proceed  to  transcribe  many  passages  of  parallel 
excellence.  One  instance  more  shall  suffice.  When  "  Juan" 
discloses  to  him  the  last  artifice  of  the  duke : 

« That  same  scratch 

On's  hand,  he  took,  to  colour  all,  and  draw  compassion, 
That  he  might  get  into  your  house  more  cunningly," 
he  instantly  replies  with  a  generous  glow  of  feeling, 

"  I  thank  ye,  noble  colonol ;  and  I  honour  ye." 
The  sensibility  of  the  audience  was  strongly  excited. 

We  are  aware  that  criticism  has  little  zest  for  the  fastidious 
palate,  unless  some  imperfections,  apparent  or  imaginary,  are 
either  detected  or  invented.  But,  if  we  were  disposed  to 
enact  words,  to  refine  on  the  inflexions  of  the  voice,  or  weigh 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS  361 

out  the  true  a-uoirdufiois  of  emphasis,  we  think,  without  elab- 
orate research,  we  should  not  lack  for  ingenuity  to  seize  some 
few  moments,  in  which  Mr.  Cooper  would  be  caught  tripping. 
But  his  occasional  lapses,  in  this  character,  have  not  substance 
for  serious  accusation.  The  general  complexion  of  his  acting 
is  engrained  with  more  of  nature,  and  less  of  the  schools,  than 
most  of  his  contemporaries ;  for,  though  he  is  well  disciplined 
in  the  "  artifice  of  speech,"  it  is  his  second  ambition  to  be 
laboriously  correct,  when  passion  stimulates  the  bounding 
nerve  to  overleap  the  dogmas  of  pedantry.  The  high  supre- 
macy of  description  over  narration,  constitutes,  says  Lord 
Kaims,  the  pre-eminence  of  Shakespeare  over  Corneille  and 
Racine.  The  difference  is  that  of  history  and  life.  The  mind 
pays  homage  to  chronicles,  but  the  eye  is  enraptured  with 
pictures.  The  canvass  breathes,  while  the  parchment  only 
records.  Quintilian  was  classically  copious  in  learning  and 
elegance ;  but  Longinus  kindled  the  lore  of  erudition  by  the 
fire  of  genius. 

"And  was,  himself,  the  great  sublime,  he  drew." 

The  space,  we  have  assigned  to  "  Leon,"  must  necessarily 
limit  our  remarks  on  the  other  persons  of  the  drama. 

We  are  among  the  number  of  tfcose,  who  are  peculiarly 
gratified  by  the  visit,  which  Mr.  Harwood  has  paid  to  our 
boards.  Proud  of  the  liberal  spirit  of  our  theatre,  which  has 
courted  the  approach  of  genius,  we  trust  that,  in  future,  the, 
interchange  of  meritorious  performers  will  indulge  the  hopes 
of  customary  expectation.  This  courtesy  is  highly  honourable 
to  the  profession,  and  it  can  never  be  so  "  honoured  in  the 
46 


362  THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

breach,  as  in  the  observance."  Managers  and  performers  should 
ponder  on  their  common  interest ;  all  are  raised  and  rewarded 
by  the  respect  paid  to  excellence ;  for  the  whole  family  of 
talent  has  but  one  origin,  and  the  ties  of  affinity  should  be 
every  where  felt  and  regarded. 

"Michael  Perez"  was  pourtrayed, by  Mr. Harwood,  with 
more  justness  of  conception,  and  spirit  of  execution,  than 
fidelity  to  his  author.  Some  of  his  touches  were  remarkably 
happy ;  while,  in  other  instances,  he  seemed  to  want  that  ease 
of  recollection,  which  the  volatile  humour  of  the  character 
required  to  give  it  efficiency.  Many  passages,  however,  might 
be  easily  selected,  in  which  his  comick  power  was  vividly 
displayed.  His  outline  did  not  want  force,  nor  his  colours 
harmony ;  but,  from  brevity  of  study,  some  of  his  moments 
were  unfinished.  Of  his  scenes,  that  in  the  fourth  act,  with 
«  Estifania"  had  the  best  design  and  most  striking  relief.  In- 
deed, we  can  recommend  the  whole  of  this  piquant,  tricksy 
rencontre,  given  and  retorted  as  it  was  on  both  sides,  as  an 
example,  rarely  instanced,  of  good  modern  acting,  arrayed 
in  the  guise  of  old  English  wit  and  repartee. 

From  many  singular  instances  of  comick  expression  we 
would  chuse,  as  a  specimen,  the  speech  to  "  Leon"  in  reply 
to  his  challenge : 

"  He  has  half  fiersuaded  me,  I  was  bred  in  the  moon  ; 
Will  ye  walk  out,  Sir  ? 
And  if  I  do  not  beat  thee,  presently, 
Into  a  sound  belief,  as  sense  can  give  thee, 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS.  363 


Brick  me  into  that  wa//,  there,  for  a  chimney  fiiece, 

And  saz/,  I  was  one  of  the  Cesars,  done  by  a  seal  cutter" 

If  he  had  any  prevailing  defect,  it  was  an  overcrowded  pre* 
cipitation  of  delivery. 

Mrs.  Stanley's  "  Estifania"  added  a  new  sprig  of  bay  to 
her  chaplet  of  comick  renown.  In  higher  walks  of  comedy, 
her  "  Lady  Teazle,"  and  "  Violante,"  had  displayed  examples 
of  courtly  elegance  and  versatile  vivacity,  to  which  no  other 
votary  of  Thalia  had  aspired  on  the  American  stage  ;  while 
her  "  Rosalind"  for  the  playfulness  of  its  wit,  claimed  the 
same  unprecedented  rank,  which  was  assigned  to  her  "  Portia," 
for  its  graceful  and  classick  elocution.  But  "  Estifania"  is 
an  arch,  wheedling  soubrette,  a  very  rogue  at  heart,  with  a 
tongue  of  oil  and  pepper,  a  chambermaid,  with  the  address 
of  a  courtier,  and  the  head  of  a  prime  minister,  a  lady  of  no 
origin,  but  her  wit,  with  no  more  gowns,  than  her  flaunting 
mistress  had  cast  off,  yet  with  as  many  tricks  as  a  roving 
captain,  "  in  the  full  meridian  of  his  wisdom,"  could  put  on  ! 
In  this  subtle  character,  the  ever  shifting  compound  of  con- 
trivance and  repartee,  Mrs.  Oldfield  and  Mrs.  Abbington 
have  been,  at  different  periods  of  the  last  century,  eminently 
successful  ;  and  Mrs.  Stanley  at  the  present  day  is,  we  think, 
the  lawful  heir  of  their  honours.  To  follow  her  through  the 
part,  with  a  minute  description  of  her  diversity  of  action  and 
peculiarity  of  conveyance,  would  be  a  task  of  too  great  an 
extent  for  this  paper  ;  for  the  colours  of  this  sarcastick,  plot- 
ting character  are  always  seen  in  constant  variation,  and  ever 


364  THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

sparkling  in  a  new  direction.  A  few  quotations  will  suffice 
to  illustrate  the  maturity  of  her  conception,  and  the  point  of 
her  manner. 

u  perez.  My  Estifania,  shall  we  to  dinner,  lamb  ? 
I  know  thou  stay'st  for  me. 
"Estif.  (with  wheedling  fondness)  I  cannot  EAT  else. 

Again,  (with  unconcerned  simplicity  : ) 

"Estif.  We  must  yield  our  house  unto  her  for  four  days. 

"Perez.  Aye — if  easily  it  would  come  back  ? 

"Estif.  I  swear,  Sir,  as  easily,  as  it  came  on  ; 
You  gi-ve  away  no  house  I" 

Her  utterance  of  the  last  line  conveyed  very  insidiously 
and  forcibly  to  the  audience,  though  unperceived  by  Perez, 
the  latent  double  meaning  of  the  author.  The  arch  impostor 
\vas  laughing  at  the  cozened  captain  through  the  thin  veil  of 
the  equivocal  sense.  In  the  same  scene, 

" Pray  ye  walk  by  and  say  nothing  ; 

Only  salute  them  ;  and  leave  the  rest  to  me. 
I  was  born  to  make  ye  a  MAN  I" 

Perez  replies  with  truth  "  the  witty  rogue  sfieaks  heartily** 

The  same  crafty  expression  and  cajoling  leer  appeared 
in  the  following  passage  : 

"Perez.  Pray  ye  take  heed  unto  \\\v  furniture? 
None  be  embezzled. 

"Estif.  Not  a  PIN,  / warrant  ye" 

This  reply  was  instant,  and  was  made  with  the  important 
look  of  a  careful  housewife.  The  subtilty  and  security  of  her 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS.  365 

deception,  throughout  these  two  acts,  were  expressed  with 
fine  comick  pungency.  i 

The  whole  scene  in  the  fourth  act,  we  have  before  remarked, 
was  most  highly  finished.  The  humour  and  retort  of  the  dia- 
logue were  in  constant  motion,  and  addressed  with  well-aimed 
activity.  We  need  not  go  into  recital,  except  in  one  instance, 
in  which,  the  effect  of  the  -vis  comica  had  a  subtlety  of  opera- 
tion, which  eludes  description : 

"Perez.  Why,  am  I  cozened  ? 

"Estif.  Why,  am  I  abused  ? 

"Perez.  Thou  most  vile,  base,  abominable— 

"Estif.  Captain  i 

"Perez.  Thou  incorrigible-^- 

"Estif.  Cafitain  / 

"Perez.  Do  you  echo  me  ? 

"Estif.  Yes,  Sir,  and  go  before  ye  too,and  round  about  ye"  &c. 

Her  shrewd,  biting  caution  to  "Cacofogo,"  has  the  feature's 
of  the  same  family  of  sareasm : 

"All  secrecy  she  would  desire,— -she  told  me, 
How — WISE-— you  are  I" 

We  observed  a  deviation  of  memory  in  one  speech,  which, 
however,  was  too  promptly  supplied  to  affect  the  sense  or 
spirit  of  the  scene.  The  incident  of  the  pistol  was  very 
ingeniously  managed,  and  bore  its  expected  proportion  of 
merit  to  the  other  parts  of  the  character.  With  the  review 
ef  these  three  personages,  the  labour  of  criticism  ends  in  this 
play. 


366  THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

"In^ngustiis  amicus." 

J.  HE  desertion  of  the  Drama  by  its  former  friends,  during 
the  greater  portion  of  the  present  season,  will  never  induce 
us,  on  perceiving  this  "  rub  in  its  fortunes,"  to  abandon  its 
cause  to  the  caprice  of  the  unlettered,  or  the  folly  of  the  fash- 
ionable ;  nor  to  commit  its  destiny  to  the  perversity  of  party, 
the  altivolancy  of  tumblers,  or  the  eloquence  of  ventriloquism. 
We  are  deeply  impressed  with  the  belief,  that  the  theatre  is 
highly  important' to  society,  as  a  great  publick  school,  in  which 
all  classes  may  assemble,  to  acquire  mutual  respect  from 
Examples  of  good  breeding,  to  cultivate  morality  from  the 
delineations  of  life,  to  enliven  social  humour  from  the  vivacity 
of  fiction,  and  to  imbibe  correct  ideas  of  classick  reading  and 
of  our  native  tongue  from  striking  instances,  however  rare> 
of  the  force  of  elocution  and  purity  of  pronunciation.  That 
many  of  these  valuable  purposes  of  the  Drama  have  lately 
been  obscured,  in  the  mist  of  infatuation,  even  from  the  view 
of  those,  whose  refinement  ought  to  have  seen  and  appreci- 
ated them,  cannot  be  denied  with  truth,  nor  confessed  without 
a  blush.  But 

"  Wit  cannot  fall  so  fast,  as  folly  rises  ; 

Witness  the  Circus  ;   filled  at  double  prices  ! 

While  Fashion,  bright  and  short-lived,  as  the  rocket, 

Flies  to  hear  children  squeal  in  Rannie's  pocket  ; 

Spurning-  what  Shakespeare  wrote,  and  Garrick  played, 

It  crowds  to  see  a  Mameluke  parade  ; 

And  shouts,  when  le  Vanqueure  drinks  lemonade  L" 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS.  367 

The  performance  of  Shakespeare's  historical  play  of  Henry 
fourth,  on  Wednesday  evening,  excited  critical  expectation, 
and  attracted  a  numerous  audience,  as  well  from  its  number- 
less beauties,  which  "  custom  cannot  stale,"  as  from  the 
extraordinary  combination  of  talent  in  the  personation  of 
"  Hotspur,"  and  "  Falstaff."  This  play,  ever  since  its  first 
production  in  1598,  has  uniformly  been  considered  as  a  mas- 
terpiece of  the  dramatick  art,  in  that  species  of  writing,  which, 
from  its  commixture  of  tragedy  and  comedy,  requires  the  most 
skilful  management  in  the  necessary  intervolvement  of  plot,  in 
the  preservation  of  a  regular  action,  in  rendering  the  episodes 
subservient  to  the  main  purpose  of  the  fable,  and  in  exhibiting 
by  a  judicious  and  successive  contrast,  the  most  peculiar  atti- 
tudes and  prominent  features  of  the  opposite  orders  of  beings, 
whom  it  represents.  It  may  be  added,  that  this  play,  in  that 
perpetual  progression  of  the  action,  which  results  from  an  inge- 
nious congruity  in  the  double  plot,  is  inferiour  only  to  the 
ft  Merchant  of  Venice,"  which,  for  this  singular  beauty  of 
dramatick  construction,  has  stood  unrivalled  for  more,  than  two 
centuries.  Dry  den  aimed  at  the  model  of  this  great  original, 
in  his  "  Spanish  Fryar ;"  but  no  critick  has  ever  allowed  his 
claim  to  competition. 

Of  the  performance  of  this  play  we  are  not  at  leisure  to 
prepare  an  elaborate  analysis.  But  although  our  remarks, 
from  their  necessary  brevity  and  general  description,  may  lack 
of  critical  estimation,  we  shall  endeavour  to  pay  the  debt  of 
courtesy,  so  decidedly  due  to  u  Hotspur"  and  "  Lean  Jack." 


368  THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

"  Harry  Percy,"  if  we  may  credit  the  judgment  of  some 
observers,  did  not  rise  to  the  level  of  Mr.  Cooper's  general 
merit ;  although  it  is  allowed  to  have  outstripped  all  his  pre- 
decessors iii  the  part.  This  decision,  like  most  others  of  the 
•same  stamp,  is  too  general  to  be  correct,  and  too  dogmatick 
to  be  respected.  In  our  opinion,  after  a  long  and  impartial 
debate  between  the  claims  of  his  representation  and  that  of 
others,  "  seeing  what  we  have  seen — seeing  what  we  saw" — 
and  after  comparing  his  image  of  the  character  with  the 
description  of  his  author,  the  "  Hotspur"  of  Mr.  Cooper, 
though  not  equal  in  all  the  parts  of  its  configuration,  was 
remarkably  definite  and  bold  in  the  outline  of  its  conception, 
and  was  very  frequently  produced  in  high  relief  by  exquisite 
touches  of  characteristick  execution.  The  indignant  spirit 
that  could  not  cower  to  insult,  the  proud  honour  of  old  Eng- 
lish nobility,  emblazoned  with  the  trophies  of  fame,  yet  sullied 
with  the  rashness. of  courage  ;  the  impetuous  and  unpaltering 
avowal  of  his  adherence  to  the  unfortunate  Mortimer,  and  the 
ambitious  visions  of  the  aspiring  rebel,  goaded  by  royal  ingrat- 
itude, and  writhing  at  the  touch  of  disgrace  ;  were  all  strikingly 
disposed  in  the  character,  and  embodied  in  the  fore-ground 
of  the  picture.  His  excellence  was  generally  that  of  Hotspur 
himself;  of  so  rapid  a  march,  that  we  have  no  time  to  trans- 
fuse his  manner  into  a  quotation. 

Some  passages,  however,  from  their  universal  impression, 
it  will  require  no  extraordinary  critical  acuteness  to  select. 
The  speech, 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS.  369 

15 1  do  remember  when  the  fight  was  done"  &c.  &c.  was 
tittered  with  Percy's  fire,  directed  by  the  most  accurate  dis- 
crimination. And  we  cite  as  another  example  of  the  higher 
flights  of  scenick  delineation : 

u Methinks  it  were  an  easy  leap, 

To  pluck  bright  honour  from  the  pale-faced  moon."  &c. 

Instances  might  be  multiplied,  such  as  his  testy  mortifica- 
tion and  resentment  at  the  revolt  of  some  of  his  "  crafty-sick" 
friends,  8cc.  to  support  the  general  position,  on  which  we  have 
rested  our  decision.  But  enough  has  been  said.  One  fault 
was  occasionally  conspicuous,  which  we  had  not  expected  of 
Mr.  Cooper.  "  In  the  tempest  of  passion,"  he  did  not  always 
"  begeta  temperance  of  speech."  Hotspur  is  mad  with  choler, 
but  his  representative  should  not  be  choaked  with  it.  Yet  in 
all  other  cases,  which  we  recollect,  it  has  been  the  peculiar 
praise  of  Mr.  Cooper  to  have  escaped  from  this  errour.  We 
have  often  thought  him  without  a  rival  in  all  passages,  in  which 
the  passion  of  the  scene  requires  a  vehement  rapidity  of  utter- 
ance, united  to  uncommon  distinctness  and  energy  of  articu- 
lation. 

• 

In  the  whole  gallery  of  Shakespeare's  characters,  there  is  no 
comick  personage,  which  cm  »break  &  lance  with  "  Jack 
Falstaff.'*  His  protuberances  of  wit  are  like  his  "  mountain, 
of  flesh."  In  either  case,  no  one  else  can  walk  in  his  doublet 
and  hose  !  "  Lear,"  in  tragedy,  is  not  more  a  chef  d'  auvre9 
than  the  fat  knight  of  Gad's  hill  is,  in  comedy.  Without  revert- 
ing to 'any  former  attempts  at  this  part,  which  among  the  best 
actors  is  allowed  to  be  a  trial  of  skill,  we  shall  award  to  Mr. 
4,7 


370  THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

Harwood  an  almost  unqualified  approbation ;  and  it  is  not  the 
smallest  portion  of  his  praise,  that  he  preserved  entire  the  vol- 
ume of  his  voice  amid  all  the  inflexions  and  transitions  of  that 
capricious  modulation,  which  the  character  requires.  The 
celebrated  passage, 

"  Do  you  think  I  did  not  know  ye"  &c. 

was  given  with  inimitable  effect.  With  this  may  be  ranked 
the  soliloquy  on  honour,  and  the  admirable  burlesque  manage- 
ment of  the  fight.  The  convulsive  roar  of  the  audience  was, 
on  this  occasion,  a  better  criticism,  than  could  be  collected 
from  the  most  classick  notes  of  laborious  commentators,  who 
might,  as  usual, 

"  O'er  Shakespeare's  page  their  poring  vigils  keep, 
To  catch  at  words,  and,  catching,  fall  asleep." 
The  other  parts  were  not  recommended  to  notice  by  any 
distinction  of  merit. 


"  I  will  be  treble-sinewed,  hearted,  breathed, 

And  fight  maliciously ;  and  in  that  mood, 

The  dove  will  peck  the  estridge ;  there  is  hope  in't  yet ; 

I  and  my  sword  will  earn  our  chronicle." 

^  47+**** 

J.  HE  tragedy  of  "  V-enus  Preserved,"  though  its  beauties 
have  become  trite  and  its  attraction  diminished  by  repetition, 
was  performed  on  Wednesday  evening,  to  an  audience  not 
only  numerous  and  fashionable,  but  certainly  the  most  critical, 
which,  within  our  recollection,  has  ever  been  assembled  within 
the  walls  of  the  theatre. 


THEATRICAL,  CRITICISMS.  371 

This,  we  believe,  was  produced  by  an  unexampled  concur- 
rence of  individual  effort;  an  unprecedented  emulation  of 
talent,  to  render  due  efficiency  and  justice  to  one  of  the  brightest, 
poetick  ornaments  of  the  English  drama.  We  are  not,  how- 
ever, on  this  account,  inclined  to  relax  our  judgment  to  the 
extravagance  of  eulogy,  nor  to  submit  its  reins  to  the  prede- 
lection  of  opinion.  We  are  well  aware,  that  when  criticks 
feed  on  party, 

"  They  eat  the  sword,  they  fight  with." 

The  plot  of  "Venice  Preserved,"  is  borrowed  from  the 
Abbe  de  St.  Rael's  "Histoire  de  la  conjuration  de  Marquis 
JBedemar"  which  relates  the  circumstances  of  the  Spanish 
conspiracy  at  Venice.  This  author  is  called,  by  Voltaire, 
the  French  Sallust ;  and  some  of  the  speeches  of  "  Renault" 
to  the  conspirators  are  as  correctly  copied  from  the  Abbe,  as 
any  one  of  Shakespeare's  "  Volumnia"  is  from  North's  Plu- 
tarch, or  of  his  "Queen  Catharine"  from  Hollinshed.  It  is 
remarkable,  that,  though  this  play  has  been,  for  nearly  one 
hundred  and  thirty  years,  a  distinguished  favourite  of  the 
publick,  from  its  interesting  incidents  and  affecting  catastrophe, 
it  has  been  always  justly  reproached  with  the  charge  that 
it  does  not  contain  one  "truly  valuable  character,  except 
Belvidera,"  and  even  she  is  not  faultless !  Yet  such  is  the 
power  of  genius  to  give  immortality  to  its  own  works,  that 
this  dramatick  poem  will  probably  be  coeval  with  the  English 
tongue ;  and,  still  blooming  in  its  fame,  unwithered  in  its 
attraction,  by  all  the  blighting  cavils  of  criticism,  will  continue 
to  convey,  to  successive  generations,  the  strong  and  varying 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

impulses  of  human  passion,  whether  corrupted  by  ambition, 
seduced  by  sensibility,  or  disgraced  by  shame,  while  revenge, 
and  love,  and  contrition,  alternately  fill,  and  agitate,  and  shrowd 
the  theatre  of  the  human  mind. 

To  the  performance  of  this  play  the  motto,  we  have  select- 
ed, has  a  pointed  reference.  That  the  emanations  of  talent; 
are  brightened  by  competition,  who  will  deny  ?  and,  on  this 
evening,  after  witnessing  probably  the  best  representation 
ever  seen  in  America,  the  universal  suffrage  gave  due  token 
of  the  impression,  it  had  made. 

Messrs.  Cooper  and  Fennell  were  the  rival  candidates  for 
the  wreath  of  Thespian  victory ;  and  the  combined  effect  of 
their  talents  was  very  powerfully  assisted  by  the  "  Belvidera" 
of  Mrs.  Stanley.  In  this,  as  in  all  contentions  of  a  similar 
nature,  the  spirit  of  party  was  on  the  alert ;  a  divided  senti- 
ment prevailed  which  was  wholly  repugnant  to  impartiality  of 
judgment ;  the  "  Tros  Rotulusve"  was  alone  considered ; 
and  the  applause,  as  it  was  more  frequent  and  boisterous,  than 
a  strict  sobriety  of  taste  could  warrant,  was  also  as  often  lav- 
ished from  courtesy,  and  misplaced  from  folly,  as  educed  by 
excellence,  and  awarded  by  justice.  Every  artifice  of  the 
stage  was  rounded  with  a  peal  of  rapture.  Mr.  Cooper  could 
not  swell  his  fine  melodious  voice  to  the  "  top  of  its  compass," 
without  a  responsive  thunder  from  the  house  ;  nor  could  Mr. 
Fennell  extend  Ms  a  many  a  rood  of  limb,"  in  two  gigantick 
strides  from  one  stage  door  to  the  other,  but  the  most  learned 
"million"  beat  their  palms  with  ecstacy  and  exclaimed, 
«  What  an  admirable  READER  !"  We  have  not  indulged  this 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS.  376 

vein  of  sarcasm  to  ridicule  the  exertion  of  eminent  talents, 
which  has  so  justly  "earned  its  chronicle ;"  but  to  expose 
to  merited  contempt  that  fashionable  affectation,  that 
most  excellent  foppery  of  taste,  which  has  of  late  usurped  the 
balance  and  the  rod  of  criticism,  among  our  full  grown  babes 
of  learning,  who  have  suddenly  become  commentators  on 
playing,  by  going  to  school  at  thirty  to  learn  their  mother 
tongue  ;  and  have  formed  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  au- 
thors, by  spelling  their  names  on  labels  at  the  backs  of  their 
volumes  !  Without  knowing  the  distinction  in  terms  between 
pronunciation,  emphasis  and  reflexion,  yet  with  the  aid  of  a 
little  effrontery  in  a  side  box,  and  a  well-committed  rosary  of 
words,  which  they  use  in  succession  without  choice  or  con- 
nexion, they  acquire  a  frothy  reputation  for  classical  wisdom, 
which  at  once  gives  tone  and  circulation  to  their  opinions, 
throughout  the  wide  range  of  the  shallow  profundity  of  polite 
life  !  What  a  facility  of  literary  education  !  Why  it  were  a- 
device  worth  the  experiment,  if  a  patent  might  be  obtained 
for  it ;  the  market  women  in  the  publick  streets  of  Athens 
repeated  lines  from  Homer,  while  they  sold  apples  and  filberts ; 
then  wherefore  should  not  the  discipline  of  a  tailor  and  a  frizeur 
make  as  good  a  commentator  of  a  beau,  as  the  perusal  of 
Malone,  Johnson  or  Walker !  This  process  too  would  pre-^ 
vent  a  great  many  fruitless  head  aches,  would  keep  down  the 
price  of  calf  skin,  and  would  save  the  expense  and  trouble  of 
learning  to  read !  What  a  crop  of  connoisseurs  should  we 
have ;  they  would  grow  up,  like  the  dragon's  teeth,  and  de- 
stroy themselves  for  the  amusement  of  their  wits  1  This  then 


374  fc          THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

will  be  the  very  millenium  of  letters,  when  taste  shall  be  re- 
duced under  the  dominion  of  fashion,  and 

"  The  fop,  the  flirt,  the  pedant,  and  the  dunce, 
Start  up,  (God  bless  us  !)  CRITICKS  all  at  once  !" 

From  this  little  episode  of  pleasantry,  in  which  we  have 
sported  rather  freely  with  the  frivolous  importance  of  our 
new  race  of  theatrical  virtuosos,  we  return  to  the  more  con- 
genial and  gratifying  task  of  rendering  to  genius  the  due 
reward  of  its  exertions. 

Of  the  professional  contest,  between  Mr.  Cooper  and  Mr. 
Fennell,  we  shall  not,  upon  the  brief  survey  of  one  evening's 
exhibition,  pronounce  an  opinion,  which  shall  decisively  award 
to  either  the  palm  of  pre-eminence.  We  might  easily  run  a 
parallel  between  their  respective  claims  and  properties.  In 
the  natural  gifts  and  requisites  of  an  actor,  Mr.  Cooper  has 
never  had  a  competitor  on  the  American  stage ;  and  in  good 
sooth  it  must  be  said,  that  "  speech  famed"  Fennell  has  gath- 
ered much  lore  at  the  feet  of  Cratippus.  But  general  conclu^ 
sions  conduce  nothing  to  critical  information.  Whichever 
scale  may  preponderate,  either  of  the  combatants  may  retort 
on  the  other,  in  the  words  of  Ajax  : 

*'Ipse  tulit  pretium  jam  nunc  certaminis  hujus, 
Qui,  cum  victus  erit,  Mecum  certasse  feretur  !" 

As  there  are  two  other  nights,  in  which  their  prowess  in 
dramatick  chivalry,  is  to  be  exercised,  we  shall  withold  our 
examen  of  their  respective  beauties  and  defects,  both  in  elocu* 
tion  and  in  action,  until  the  lists  shall  be  closed.  One  re- 
mark we  shall  now  make,  that  Mr.  Fennell,  who  prides  him- 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS.  375 

.self  on  his  scholastick  "  vis  et  venustas  et  ordo  verbonim," 
acquired  on  this  occasion  no  distinction  beyond  his  antagonist, 
in  the  severer  graces  of  eloquence  ;  although,  in  some  brilliant 
moments  of  personation,  he  went  beyond  any  former  effort  of 
his  own.  It  should  be  recollected,  that  he  had  to  contend 
against  many  glaring  natural  disabilities  for  the  character  of  a 
dramatick  lover ;  a  voice,  obstinately  sepulchral,  a  face,  in- 
capable of  the  lineaments  of  tenderness,  a  ponderous  and 
overwhelming  gesticulation,  and  an  awkward  majesty  and 
indecision  of  movement ;  the  whole  exhibiting  rather  a  false 
fulness,  than  a  definite  expression  of  sentiment.  Yet,  against 
all  this  host  of  incapacity,  his  ambition  bore  up  its  beaver 
proudly ;  and  relying  on  his  general  knowledge  of  poetick 
effect  on  human  passions,  and  his  unwavering  consciousness 
of  his  own  classick  maturity  of  speech  and  conception,  he 
struck  out  many  sparks  of  excellence,  and  stole  many  touches 
from  nature  ;  and  in  the  general  award,  gathered  with  an  un- 
resisted  hand,  some  luxuriant  leaves  of  bay,  which  will  long 
be  green,  as  amaranth,  from  the  tears  of  sensibility,  with  which 
they  were  bedewed.  With  this  tribute,  however,  we  must 
mingle  the  reproof  of  some  passages  of  misrecitation,  for 
which  Mr.  Fennell  has  no  right  to  expect  any  indulgence, 
and  which,  therefore,  a  future  number  will  expose. 

We  feel  a  reluctance  to  speak  of  Mr.  Cooper's  "  Pierre," 
in  contrast  to  Mr.  Fennell's  "  Jaffier,"  from  this  very  suf- 
ficient reason,  that,  in  this  disposition  of  the  parts,  nature  ha's 
pronounced  her  inhibition  against  the  one,  and  has  given  her 
amplest  commission  to  the  other.  Every  actor  has  peculiar 


376  THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

habitudes  of  gesticulation,  speech  and  expression  ;  in  all  these; 
Cooper  is  moulded  and  fashioned  into  "  Pierre  ;"  and  beyond 
these,  which  are  great  and  striking  endowments,  he  is  emi- 
nently happy  in  transfusing  the  soul  of  his  author  into  the 
character  of  his  action.  We  do  not  believe  this  bold,  ingen- 
uous, generous,  affectionate  rebel  was  ever  personated  with 
more  propriety,  fire  or  discrimination,  on  the  boards  of  Lon- 
don. In  the  scene  with  the  conspirators,  after  the  discovery  of 
"  Renault's"  letcherous  breach  of  trust, it  may  be  truly  said,  he 

"  Lurched  all  swords  of  the  garlands'." 

He  had  one  errour  in  his  speech  to  the  senate,  which  we  shall 
notice  in  a  subsequent  commentary. 

Mrs.  Stanley's  "  Belvidera"  was  the  best  tragick  perform- 
ance of  this  lady  in  Boston.  The  beautiful  poetick  flight, 
inspired  by  the  prospective  banishment  and  ruin  of  her  hus- 
band, was  uttered  with  the  most  delightful  chastity  and  ten- 
derness. Her  exit  in  the  third  act : 

"Farewell^  remember  twelve  /" 

was  delivered  with  greater  purity  and  impression,  than  by  Mrs 
Warren  ;  though  she  shared,  in  common  with  that  admired 
performer,  the  censure  of  two  misreadings  in  the  following 
scenes.  Her  greatest  praise,  however,  was,  that  she  had  evi- 
dently benefitted  by  the  admonitions  of  criticism,  and,  through- 
out the  whole  character,  confined  her  voice  within  the  com- 
pass of  its  own  natural  modulation  and  power.  In  comedy, 
she  needs  no  monitor. 

The  play  altogether,  was  the  best  representation,  which  the 
Boston  stage  has  ever  afforded  us. 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS.  377 


« If  they  be  free, 

Why  then  our  taxing,  like  a  wild  goose,  flies 
Unclaimed  of  any  man." 

N  this  and  a  few  subsequent  numbers,  we  shall  aim  to  give  au 
accurate  survey  of  some  of  the  more  characteristick  distinctions 
of  performance  in  the  two  American  competitors  for  the  chair  of 
Roscius.  Hence  we  shall  frame,  in  the  spirit  of  impartiality, 
attempted  with  what  little  judgment  we  possess,  a  comparative 
estimate  of  their  classical  and  professional  merits. 

On  this  subject,  we  shall  generally  premise,  that  Mr.  Fen- 
nelPs  confessed  reputation,  as  a  scholar,  and  as  an  actor,  does 
not  "  bear  an  equal  yoke  ,•"  and  that  Mr.  Cooper  is  not  so 
much  indebted  for  his  fame  to  the  mere  bounty  of  nature,  as 
some  have  been  willing  to  imagine  ;  but  owes  to  erudition  the 
establishment  of  that  pre-eminence,  which  has  been  exclusively 
assigned  to  the  incidental  properties  of  person  and  voice.  If 
the  former  may  sometimes  excel  in  arranging,  in  just  propor- 
tion, the  lineaments  of  a  whole  character,  it  may  with  equal 
candour  and  justice  be  allowed,  that  the  latter  seldom  fails  to 
shed  a  superiour  lustre  on  the  execution  of  particular  passages. 
Within  our  recollection,  the  publick  curiosity  has  not  been 
so  highly  excited,  as  by  the  collision  of  talent,  which  the  vicis- 
sive  assumption  of  "  Othello,**  and  "  lago,"  produced  between 
Mr.  Cooper  and  Mr.  Fennell.  Of  their  respective  personations 
of  each  character,  we  do  not  intend  to  give  a  description  at  full 
length,  but  we  shall  touch  on  those  points  in  their  several  pic- 
48 


378  THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

tures,  which  will  induce  a  recognition  of  the  likeness.    And 
first  of  the  Moor. 

"  The  fiery  openness  of  Othello,  magnanimous,  artless,  and 
credulous,  boundless  in  his  confidence,  ardent  in  his  affection, 
inflexible  in  his  resolution,  and  obdurate  in  his  revenge ;" 
demands,  perhaps,  mop* e  requisites  from  nature,  to  bestow  ade- 
quate illustration  on  his  glowing  variety  of  character,  than  any 
other  heroick  personage,  that  "  struts  and  frets  his  hour  ufion 
the  stage."  In  physical  aptitudes,  Mr.  Cooper  had  the  evident 
advantage  of  Mr.  Fennell,  yet  he  often  untuned  his  voice  by 
violence  ;  while  Mr.  Fennell,  who  prefers  high  and  honoured 
claims  to  the  magistracy  of  elocution,  in  some  instances  wan- 
dered from  the  true  sense  and  conception  of  his  authors. 

In  the  celebrated  address  to  the  Senate,  it  was  apparent 
that  neither  party  was  insensible  to  the  spirit  of  emulation.  As 
this  whole  speech,  with  all  its  successions  of  dignity  and  pas- 
sions, lies  upon  the  level  of  Mr.  Fennell's  natural  power,  we 
were  not  surprised  to  find  him  excel  Mr.  Cooper  in  the  gen- 
eral outline  of  the  oration.  Mr.  Fennell's  manner  was  "  plain 
and  unvarnished ;"  and,  if  we  except  his  ungraceful  gesticula- 
tion, was  sufficiently  eloquent  for  a  man, 

" rude  in  speech, 

And  little  blessed  with  the  set  phrase  of  peace  ;*' 
but  the  style  of  Mr.  Cooper  had  too  much  Ciceronian  refine- 
ment, too  much  artificial  polish,  for  the  warriour  who  says  of 
himself, 

" little  of  this  great  'world  can  I  speak, 

And  therefore  little  shall  I  grace  my  cause, 

By  sfieaking  for  myself" 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS.  379 

Yet,  however,  near  the  climax  of  his  story,  Mr.  Cooper 
wonderfully  surpassed  his  antagonist,  by  substituting  an  emi- 
nent beauty  of  delineation,  for  a  most  strange  misconception 
of  Mr.  Fennell. 

<*  She  wished  she  had  not  heard  it ;  yet  she  wished 
That  heaven  had  made  her  such  a  man  :  She  thanked  me  ; 
And  bade  me,  if  I  had  a  friend,  that  loved  her, 
I  should  but  teach  him  how  to  tell  my  story, 
And  that  would  woo  her." 

This,  it  should  be  observed,  is  the  first,  timid,  half-concealed 
confession  of  love,  on  the  part  of  "  Desdemona ;"  and  was 
admirably  pourtrayed  by  Mr.  Cooper,  with  the  most  expressive 
traits  of  modesty  and  tenderness ;  and  yet  without  departing 
from  the  severity  of  declamation.  Mr.  Fennell,  however,  ranted 
in  a  tone  of  exultation  and  triumph,  as  it  were  at  the  success 
of  his  romantick  fable  over  the  simple  mind  of  Desdemona. 
We  cannot  conceive  of  any  representation  of  the  passage  more 
grossly  out  of  character.  Othello  breaks  into  no  expression 
of  elevated  joy,  until  he  utters  the  subsequent  sentence,  whose 
relative  effect  lost  its  contrast  by  this  premature  extravagance 
of  action  ;  and  thus  was  weakened  the  impression,  commonly 
produced  by  the  transport  of  "  Othello,'*  when  he  exclaims ; 

"  She  loved  me  for  the  danger s>  I  had  passed, 
And  /  loved  her,  that  she  didfiity  them. 
In  the  exclamatory  passage, 

"  Silence  that  dreadful  bell :  it  frights  the  isle 
From  her  propriety" 


380  THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

Mr.  Cooper's  clear  and  swelling  volume  of  intonation  had  a 
fine  scope  for  its  exercise,  and  it  filled  the  house  with  a  peal 
of  melody ;  but  in 

"  Villain,  be  sure  thou  prove  my  love  a  whore  ; 
Be  sure  on't ;  give  me  the  occular  proof,"  Sec. 
he  strained  his  voice  beyond  its  limits,  until  it  cracked  into  a 
shrill  discordance,  which  pained  the  sternest  ear.  Mr.  Fennell 
in  the  same  two  passages  wanted  fire  ;    but,  having  a  limited 
compass  and  difficult  modulation  of  voice,  he  was  not  tempted 
to  commit  the  ambitious  fault  of  Mr.  Cooper.     If  he  was  not 
admired  for  Othello's  ardour,  his  own  deliberation  guarded  him 
against  offence. 

Mr.  Fennell  we  think  adopted  the  preferable  emphasis  in 
the  following  contested  inter jectional  speech  : 

"  Excellent  wretch  !  perdition  catch  my  soul, 
But  I  do  love  thee  I" 

Mr.  Cooper^  against  the  opinion  of  the  elder  Sheridan,  laid 
the  stress  on  "  love." 

Mr.  Cooper  was  powerfully  impressive  in  the  following 
transition  of  intermingled  suspicion  and  deprecation  : 

"  If  thou  dost  slander  her,  and  torture  me, 

Never  pray  more,  &c.  8cc. 

******* 

For  nothing  canst  thou  to  damnation  ADD, 
Greater  than  that" 

Mr.  Fennell  gave  the  same  construction,  but  not  with  the 
same  boldness  of  execution.  Indeed,  throughout,  Mr.  Fen- 
nell's  general  defect  was  an  uncharacteristick  tameness.  He 


THEATttlCAL  CRITICISMS.  381 

was  too  affectedly  chaste,  too  tristfully  correct.  His  colours 
were  sufficiently  diluted  for  "  Marcus  Brutus." 

In  illustrating  the  learning  of  Shakespeare,  or  rather  in 
giving  poetical  effect  to  his  images,  we  could  discern  one 
instance  in  which  we  thought  Mr.  Cooper  was  more  apt,  than 
Mr.  Fennell. 

" , If  I  do  prove  her  haggard, 

Though  that  her  jesses  were  my  dear  heart-strings^ 
I'd  whistle  her  off,  and  let  her  DOWN  the  wind. 
To  firey  at  fortune" 

This  is  a  metaphor,  borrowed  from  falconry.  «  The  Falconers, 
says,  Dr.  Johnson,  always  let  fly  the  hawk  against  the  wind ; 
if  she  flies  with  the  wind  behind  her,  she  seldom  returns.  If, 
therefore,  a  hawk  was,  for  any  reason,  to  be  dismissed,  she 
was  "  let  down  the  wind  ;"  and  from  that  time  shifted  for 
herself,  and  "  fir  eyed  at  fortune"  This  allusion,  Mr.  Cooper 
strikingly  exemplified,  by  making  the  word  "  DOWN"  emphat- 
ick,  and  by  a  well-conceived  and  picturesque  gesticulation. 
But  Mr.  Fennell,  destroyed  the  figure,  by  irrevelant  gesture, 
and  by  laying  the  emphasis  on  "  wind" 

Both  were  equally  deficient  in  the  necessary  scenick  prep- 
aration of  mind  and  action,  to  give  effect,  or  sense  to, 

"  It  is  the  causey  it  is  the  cause,  my  soul." 
The  actor  began  as  abruptly,  as  the  soliloquy  ;  no  room  was 
given  to  imagine  the  previous  perturbation  and  horrour  of 
Othello's  mind,  which  though  it  could  not  be  shaken  by  the 


:•'• 

382  THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

atrocity  of  the  crime,  he  was  about  to  commit,  was  yet  stung 
with  shame  by  the  "  cause"  which  led  him  to  it. 
To  the  tender  expostulation  of  Desdemona, 
"  Am  /  the  occasion  of  those  tears-)  my  Lord  ? 

#*##****# 

Lay  not  your  blame  on  me  ;  if  you  have  lost  him, 

/have  lost  him  too." 

Othello  makes  no  reply,  but  utters,  in  agonized  soliloquy,  the 

bursting  sorrows  and  indignant  nobleness  of  his  soul.     In  this 

moment  of  the  character,  Mr.  Cooper  rose  above  cavil,  and 

defied  competition : 

" ...Had  it  pleased  heaven 

To  try  me  with  affliction  ;  had  he  rain'd 

All  kinds  of  sores  and  shames  on  my  bare  head  j? 

Steep? d  me  in  poverty  to  the  very  lips  $ 

Given  to  captivity — ME  and  my  HOPES  ; 

"  I  should  have  found,  in  some  part  of  my  soul, 

A  drop  of  PATIENCE  : 

But  there —  where  I  had  garner'd  up  my  HEART."  Sec. 

It  may  be  said  here  of  Mr  Cooper,  that  his  sensibility  evi- 
dently affected  his  exterior  deportment.  Nature  spoke  from 
her  "heart's  core  ;"  and  the  actor's  accents  harmonized  with 
the  most  touching  tones  of  instinctive  pathos.  No  sophistication 
of  rhetorick  could  have  produced  the  same  tremblingly  living 
sensation. 

In  the  bed-chamber  scene,  Mr.  Fennell  gave  the  monition  to 
Desdemona  with  affecting  solemnity : 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS.  383 

«  Well,  do  it,  and  be  brief;  I  will  walk  by ; 
I  would  not  kill  thy  unprepared  spirit ; 
No— heaven  fore/ "end  /—I  would  not  kill — thy  SOUL  ! 

We  were  not  perfectly  satisfied  with  either  of  them  in  the 
delivery  of  the  following  remarkable  line— 

"  Put  out  the  light,  and  then— Put  out  the  light!" 
This  reading  is  obviously  correct,  as  it  intimately  concatenates 

with  the  reflection  which  follows. 

•  v 

In  the  first  hemistick,  we  must  imagine  Othello  wrapped 
up  in  his  murderous  intent,  speaking  in  a  careful,  yet 
determined  under  tone,  and  striding,  like  a  fiend,  towards  the 
perpetration  of  his  design  : 

"  Put  out  the  light,  and  then" 

here,  either  from  affection  combating  with  revenge,  or  con- 
science for  a  moment  repealing  his  purpose  by  abrupt  com- 
punction, he  suddenly  becomes  irresolute,  revolts  from  his 
course,  and  starts  into  that  expressive  apostrophe  :— - 

« Put  OUT  the  light  I" 

Instantly  the  dormant  moral  principle  arouses,  and  he  proceeds; 

"  If  I  quench  thee,  thou  flaming  minister, 
I  can  again  thy/ormer  light  restore, 
Should  I  repent  me  :  but  once,  put  out  THINE,—- 
Thou  cunning'st  pattern  of  excelling  nature, — 
I  know  not  where  is  that  Promethean  fire, 
That  can  thy  light  relume" 

This  conception  forcibly  illustrates  the  true  course  of  reflec- 
tion in  the  strongly  agitated,  and  half  relenting  mind  of  Othello. 
But  we  saw  no  distinct  marks  of  it  on  the  stage. 


384  THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

On  the  whole,  we  have  formerly  seen  the  performance  of 
the  same  character,  by  the  same  gentlemen,  marked  with  more 
studious  correctness,  and  brighter  excellence. 


"  Quid  verum  atque  decens,  euro ;  et  omnis  in  hoc  sum* 

******* 

Nullius  addictus  jurare  in  verba  magistri." 

THE  character  of  "  lago"  has  three  aspects,  whichj  in 
correct  representations,  mark  through  all  his  varieties  of 
hypocrisy,  that  "cool  malignity  of  the  villain,  silent  in  his 
resentment,  subtle  in  his  designs^  and  studious  at  once  of  his 
interest  and  his  vengeance."  To  "Othello,"  his  insinuating 
frankness  and  reluctant  disclosures  constantly  present,  by 
fair  seeming,  the  illusion  of  "exceeding-honesty;*5  to  "Roderigo" 
he  is  a  politician  of  another  school,  and  under  pretence  of  help- 
ing him  to  the  love  of  "  Desdemona,"  he  "  makes  his  fool 
his  purse ;"  but  in  his  soliloquies  he  entirely  throws  off  the 
mask,  and  exulting  in  the  success  of  the  "  candy  deal  of 
courtesy,"  which  he  has  practiced  on  Iris  dupes  and  victims, 
he  is  bold  enough  in  crime  to  exclaim : 

" Divinity  of  hell ! 

When  devils  will  the  blackest  sins  put  on, 
They  do  suggest  at  first,  with  heavenly  shores, 
As  I  do  now" 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS.  385 

By  this  delineation  of  the  different  features  of  « lago"  it 
Will  readily  be  perceived,  that  his  scenick  representative  should 
possess,  among  other  requisites,  a  countenance  of  bold  outline 
and  marked  configuration  ;  capable  of  great  complacency  as 
well,  as  power  and  flexibility  of  expression ;  constantly  chang- 
ing with  the  calculating  purpose  of  the  soul ;  and  exhibiting 
in  succession  the  secure  effrontery  of  imposition,  the  knotted 
corrugation  of  revenge,  and  the  insidious  protestation  of  friend* 
ship. 

In  this  definition  of  the  properties  of  "  lago's"  visage,  we 
have  been  the  more  precise,  as  Mr.  Fennell  is  always  sure 
to  sink,  as  a  competitor  of  Cooper,  in  all  characters,  which 
demand  a  definite  intelligence  of  countenance.  There  is  a 
medium  between  vacancy  and  expression,  which  denotes  mind, 
but  does  not  depict  its  conceptions ;  which  exhibits  the  mus- 
cle, but  not  the  feature  of  intellect.  The  "  human  face  divine" 
can  appear  to  think,  though  it  does  not  illustrate  its  thoughts. 
In  this  middle  state  of  perfection,  we  place  the  scenick  ability 
of  Mr*  Fennell.  To  his  genius,  learning  and  taste  we  pay 
a  willing  and  ample  tribute  ;  but,  if  we  consider  the  effect  of 
his  talent  on  the  senses,  or, in  other  words,  his  power  of  organick 
communication,  we  must  be  permitted  in  the  confession,  that 
we  doubt  his  capacity  to  make,  from  the  stage,  a  deep  and 
correct  impression  of  any  passion,  except  that  which  forms 
the  leading  characteristick  of  "  Zanga."  Here  it  must  be 
allowed,  that  in  expressing  the  turbulent  sense  of  indignityja,t 
the  prostration  of  princely  honour,  he  displayed  a  bold  and 

savage  majesty,  in  which  his  force  of  delineation  for  once 
49 


386  THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

ranked  with  his  vigour  of  conception.     This  notice  is  awarded 
to  Mr.  Fennell  with  a  spirit  of  independence,  which  gives  it 
value ;  and,  we  trust,  with  a  maturity  of  reflection,  which  will 
give  it  currency.     Mr.  Fennell   has   now   retired   from  the 
stage ;  and,  in  his  new  profession,  we  wish  he  may  receive 
the  patronage  of  the  affluent,  and  satisfy  the  judgment  of  the 
classical.     This  optative  mode  of  expression,  is  not  intended 
to  convey  any  doubts  of  the  merits  of  Mr.  Fennell,  and  recom- 
mending, as  we  do,  his  infant  institution  to  the  protection  of 
the  property  and  sense  of  the  community,  we  shall  add,  in 
the  severity  of  truth,  that  if  his  laudable  enterprise  be  suffered ' 
to  pine  away  amid  neglected  promises  of  heedless  ignorancer 
or  forgetful  grandeur,  the  boasted  wealth  and  literature  of  our 
metropolis,  which  have  added  so  gorgeous  an  embellishment 
to  the  habiliments  of  our  pride,  should  henceforth  be  con- 
demned to  keep  company  with  their  owners*  hearts,  in  the 
dark  and  hermit  corners  of  society.     But  to  return. — The 
petulent  puerility,  and  bombastick  nonsense  of  some  of  Mr. 
Fennell's  admirers  would  provoke  retort,  and  deserve  it,  were 
we  not  convinced  that  Mr.  Fennell  himself  would  most  wil- 
lingly exchange  the  panegyriclc  of  such  leading-string  scrib- 
blers for  their  abuse.     Yet  they  all  write  in  a  most  goodly 
buckram  style,  and  in  terms  of  art  measured  by  the  rood ! 
One  of  these   sesquipedalian   witlings   has   rifled  Johnson's 
Rambler  of  all  its  verbal  invention,  its  flounces  and  furbelows 
of  style,  to  decorate  and  bedizen  Mr.  Fennell  in  his  principal 
characters.     After  twisting  and  distorting  the  King's  English 
into  every  possible  agony  of  meaning,  he  invents  a  new  term 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS.  387 

in  prosody,  to  make  his  Roscian  hero  take  leave  of  the  stage 
in  "  valedictory  verse  !"  nay,  more,  eheu  I  Onus  defiendum  .' 
he  retires  "  with  the  gratitude  of  his  mother  tongue  I"  The 
inventor  of  the  compass,  the  founder  of  printing,  or  the  dis- 
coverer of  the  circulation  of  the  human  blood,  sink  at  once,  in 
the  scale  of  original  genius,  before  this  mysterious  magician 
of  words,  this  jackalent  constructor  of  luminous  sentences, 
whose  light  attracts,  but  never  can  be  followed.  How  fugitive 
is  the  bright  imposture  ;  it  flashes,  and  is  enveloped  in  deeper 
darkness  from  its  own  explosion.  Dulness,  like  vanity,  always 
mistakes  its  element. 

"Optat  ephippia  bos  piger  ;  optatarare  caballus.'* 

In  strictness  of  critical  justice,  Mr.  Fennell  is  as  absolutely 
amenable  to  the  comment  of  the  dramatick  censor,  though 
protected  by  the  honoured  title  of  a  preceptor  of  elocution, 
as  the  most  inferiour  member  of  the  histrionick  profession.  Yet 
as  the  severity  of  criticism  has  its  only  apology  in  the  hope  of 
correction,  and  this  salutary  object  can  no  longer  be  fairly 
proposed,  since  his  voluntary  secession  from  the  stage,  we  are 
constrained,  by  the  double  tie  of  duty  and  inclination,  to  abstain 
from  disquisition,  which  can  no  longer  be  useful,  and  to 
smother  reproof,  the  candour  of  whose  motive  may  now  be 
subject  to  question.  It  remains,  however,  to  be  stated,  that 
in  the  part  of  "  lago"  our  unequivocal  preference  went  along 
with  Mr.  Cooper  jier  totum  agmen.  In  correctness,  or  force  of 
reading,  we  scarcely  know  to  whom  the  balance  would  incline. 
But  one  or  two  diversities  of  emphasis  occurred,  and  none  of 
interpretation.  The  differences  were  immaterial,  and  only 


388  THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

such,  as  the  incidental  lapses  of  performance  might  occasion. 
For  the  distinctions  were  all  of  manner  in  the  personation  of 
the  character,  in  its  varieties  of  address  to  the  other  persons 
of  the  drama,  with  whom  it  was  necessarily  intermingled. 
Here,  indeed,  the  merit  of  the  representation  belongs  most 
eminently  to  Mr.  Cooper.  In  the  conduct  of  the  scenes,  his 
subtle  honesty  to  Othello,  his  imposing  assurance  to  Roderigo* 
and  his  deadly  malignity  in  soliloquy,  were  more  deeply 
imbued  with  discrimination,  "  form  and  pressure."  The 
colours  were  applied  with  a  bolder  pencil,  and  the  lines  were 
traced  with  a  stronger  character.  Nature  has  denied  to  Mr. 
Fennell  the  use  of  such  powerful  means,  as  Mr.  Cooper  can 
employ  prodigally,  without  exhausting  them.  In  the  economy 
of  the  stage  art  and  situation,  Mr.  Cooper  was  wonderfully  su- 
periour.  Yet,  if  we  drop  the  curtain,  and  consider  the  exhibition 
as  a  mere  didactick  example  of  recitation,  Mr.  Fennell  does 
not  halt  behind  his  antagonist, 

But  this  subject  has  lost  its  novelty?  and  of  course  its  in- 
terest. It  is  time  it  should  be  dropped.  To  Mr.  Fennell,  as 
a  learned  and  meritorious  instructor  of  the  rising  generation, 
we  would  say,  "Proceed  and  jirosfier ;"  and  to  Mr.  Cooper, 
as  the  acknowledged  Roscius  of  the  American  stage,  we 
would  snatch  a  grace  from  Churchill  to  exclaim, 

" GARRICK,  take  the  chair, 

Nor  quit  it,  'till  them  place  an  equal  there  !" 
As  this  is  an  age  in  which  regicides  prosper,  the  mock 
inonarchs  of  the  buskin  must  not  be  surprised,  if  for  a  moment 
\ve  forget  their  kingly  prerogative,  and  "  scant  our  breathing 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS.  389 

courtesy."  If  it  were  not  high  treason  against  taste,  aye 
"most  infinite  high,"  we  would  most  valiantly  affirm,  that 
both  of  these  imperial  dignities  of  noun  and  pronoun,  had  in 
the  plentitude  of  their  royal  authority  over  the  parts  of  speech, 
most  tyrannically  laid  an  improper  emphasis  on  an  humble 
monosyllable  in  one  of  their  subject  sentences  !  The  passage 
may  perhaps  admit  of  a  questionable  reading,  and  compares 
with  a  contested  one  in  the  "  Merchant  of  Venice."  But  we 
condemn  them  both.  Our  first  allusion  is  to  the  expression 
of  "  lago,"  fiercely  ruminating  on  the  source  of  his  resent- 
ment against  the  Moor : 

"And  nothing  can,  or  shall  content  my  soul, 
Till  I  am  even  with  him,  wife /or  wife." 

We  have  marked  the  line  as  pronounced  by  Messrs. 
Cooper  and  Fennell ;  and  although  we  frankly  confess  there 
are  instances,  in  which  the  evident  sense  of  the  author  "allots 
emphatick  state"  to  monosyllables,  yet  we  cannot,  with  our 
utmost  ingenuity,  discern  the  propriety  of  the  stress  in  the 
quotation.  We  noticed  the  occurrence  of  a  similar  false 
emphasis  in  "  Portia's"  celebrated  speech  on  mercy,  which 
we  the  more  regretted,  as  Mrs.  Stanley,  with  this  exception, 
presented  to  the  audience,  on  this  occasion,  one  of  the  most 
chaste  and  classical  specimens  of  declamation,  we  have  ever 
witnessed  on  the  stage.  Yet  she  erroneously  uttered, 

" 'Tis  mightiest  in  the  mightiest." 

To  be  brief  in  our  exposition  of  errour,  we  will  correct  both 
readings  at  once.  Both  sentences  require  the  greatest  possi- 


39O  THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

ble  weight  and  body  of  expression ;  and  this,  we  think,  is  most 

forcibly  given  by  the  following  discrimination  of  voice : 

\ 
"  Till  I  am  even  with  him,  wj/fc— for  WIFE." 

So  again, 

« 'Tis  mightiest  in  the  MIGHTTEST." 

Our  judgment  may  be  disputed,  but  we  are  confident  it  will 
bear  the  test  of  critical  experiment.  It  should  be  added,  that 
the  rejected  readings  are  consonant  with  the  received  modes 
of  delivery  in  those  passages.  Criticism,  however,  submits 
to  no  prescription.  Taste  is  truth,  independent  of  the  venera- 
tion allowed  to  time,  or  the  prejudice  born  of  opinion.  Black- 
more  was  no  poet,  though  he  imitated  Virgil  in  his  hemisticks  ; 
and  a  village  lawyer  may  be  no  orator,  though  he  have  a  wart 
on  his  cheek  as  large  as  two  of  Cicero's  !  To  performers  of 
real  eminence,  emendatory  criticism  is  the  tribute  of  a  mind, 
not  disregardful  of  their  excellence.  That  soil  is  not  barren, 
which  is  worth  the  labour  of  tillage  ;  and  while  shrubs  are 
neglected,  the  tree,  whose  beauty,  thrift  or  fruit,  most  excites 
the  hopes  of  the  horticultor,  is  most  assiduously  pruned. 


"  Our  scene  is  altered." 

OF  the  celebrated  historical  drama,  "  Pizarro,"  which,  by  the 
classick  pen  of  Sheridan,  has  been  adapted  to  the  genius  of 
English  representation,  the  publick  have  already  acquired  so 
correct  and  intimate  a  knowledge,  that  to  the  American  critick 
it  may  perhaps  appear  a  rare  example  of  managerial  Super- 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS.  391 

e rogation,  to  attempt  to  enlarge  the  sphere  of  its  original 
attraction.  When  it  is  recollected,  that  the  impressive  merits 
of  this  play  assembled  twelve  audiences  during  the  last  season, 
and  would  in  all  probability  draw  as  many  more  if  represented 
this  season,  it  may  be  asked,  why  Mr.  Whitlock,  the  present 
manager,  should  voluntarily  incur  so  prodigal  an  expense,  in 
its  preparation,  as  the  import  of  his  publick  advertisement, 
and. the  suggestion  of  well-credited  rumour,  have  declared? 
The  answer  is  not  so  latent,  as  some  may  surmise.  It  is  in 
evidence  from  the  manager's  whole  direction  of  the  stage, 
that  he  will  never  insult  or  delude  the  publick  with  an  immoral 
or  imbecile  play ;  but  his  is  not  a  negative  praise  ;  for  he  has 
also  evinced,  that,  while  he  considers  wit  and  sentiment  the 
"  lawful  lords'*  of  the  drama,  he  has  not  refrained  from  the 
expenses  of  spectacle,  but  has  been  anxious  to  assist  the 
charms  of  the  Muses  with  appropriate  decoration.  The  play 
of  "  Pizarro"  has  hitherto  acquired  celebrity  only  by  its  own 
intrinsick  claims  ;  with  no  other  aid  from  the  pencil,  than  an 
uncouth  presentment  of  gorgeous  colouring,  and  ill-managed 
perspective,  which,  while  the  eye  was  dazzled  by  the  splendid 
imposture,  bewildered  the  imagination  in  the  search  of  nature 
and  reality.  As  one  of  the  manifest  objects  of  the  author  was 
to  render  the  play  a  vehicle  of  novel  and  magnificent  scenery, 
an  opportunity  was  now  offered  to  the  managers  to  present 
one  of  the  most  interesting  dramas  in  the  language,  in  a  style 
more  worthy  of  its  original  design.  Scenick  ornament,  if  so 
happily  portrayed,  and  so  scientifically  arranged,  as  to  produce 
visual  illusion,  impresses  the  boldest  similitude  of  life  on  dra- 


392  THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

matick  representation,  it  embodies  the  conception  of  the 
author,  by  giving  to  abstract  sentiment  "  a  local  habitation." 
Upon  the  execution  of  this  branch  of  the  Thespian  Art  will 
very  frequently  depend  the  analogy,  and  sometimes  the  very 
effect,  of  personation.  Another  object  of  Mr.  Whitlock,  and 
which  reflects  as  much  honour  on  his  liberality,  as  the  first 
does  on  his  taste,  was  to  open  a  broad  field  of  experiment  for 
the  scenick  talent  of  Mr.  Bromley,  to  exhibit  in  multifold  effort 
its  various  creations.  Mr.  Bromley  is  a  young  man  from 
Drury  Lane  theatre,  and  possesses  real  genius  in  his  profes- 
sion. To  prepare  the  scenery  for  "  Pizarro"  has  been  the 
labour  of  three  months ;  and,  while  on  the  one  hand  it  is  our 
wish  to  render  to  the  manager  the  distinction,  which  he  merits 
for  his  publick  spirit  in  this  expensive,  and,  we  hope  not,  pre- 
carious undertaking,  we  think  it  injustice  not  to  add,  that  Mr. 
Bromley  will  amply  deserve  the  praise  of  having  furnished 
the  Boston  stage  with  the  most  correct  and  fascinating  exhibi- 
tion, both  of  landscape  and  architecture,  which  its  lamps  ever 
illumined. 


JL  HE  revival  of  "  Pizarro"  in  its  present  improved  style, 
seems  not  only  to  have  increased  its  own  attraction,  but  to 
have  recalled  taste  and  fashion  to  the  theatre.  In  a  drama, 
which  in  its  original  design  appears  to  have  been  so  much 
devoted  to  the  purposes  of  spectacle,  and  in  the  contexture  of 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS.  393 

whose  fable  is  introduced  so  small  a  portion  of  fact,  which  is 
not  consistent  with  the  chastity  of  hi&tory,  it  might  have  been 
expected  that  the  interest  of  the  play  would  be  weakened,  if 
not  overlooked,  and  of  course  the  field  of  impressive  and  bril- 
liant acting,  improperly  narrowed  by  a  cynical  expression  of 
romance,  or  a  superstitious  sacrifice  to  scenery.  Such  might 
have  been  the  expectation ;  but  it  is  not  warranted  by  experi- 
ence. For  though  it  would  be  unjust  in  the  highest  degree  to 
the  talents  and  industry  of  Mr.  Bromley,  not  to  acknowledge 
the  excellence  of  his  exhibition,  which  we  think  was  as  fine  a 
coup,  d*  ml  as  the  Boston  theatre  ever  presented,  yet  a  com- 
ment, bearing  no  common  import  of  praise,  is  certainly  due 
on  this  occasion  to  a  considerable  number  of  the  dramatick 
corps,  who,  perhaps  catching  fire  from  the  sentiment  of  the 
scene,  with  which  they  were  connected,  excelled  their  ordinary 
exertions,  and  gave  unusual  effect  to  the  representation.  The 
contrivance  of  the  plot  is  so  exquisitely  managed  that,  when 
well  presented,  the  ingenuity  of  the  fiction  insinuates  an  inter- 
est as  powerful,  as  that  of  real  life,  because  for  the  moment  it 
is  believed,  and  more  subtle,  because  it  captivates  by  illusion. 
Of  the  peculiar  merits  of  individual  performers  it  would  be 
improper  to  speak  largely,  without  at  the  same  time  remark- 
ing on  the  defects  of  the  representation.  Criticism  loaths 
indiscriminate  praise  as  much,  as  she  despises  malignant  cen- 
sure. But  thence  it  does  not  follow  that  the  writer  of  e very- 
theatrical  paragraph  ought  to  notice  every  individual  in  a  the- 
atre, "  from  the  'lowest  point  to  the  top  of  the  jcorupass,"  from 
50 


394  THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

the  Roscius  who  enacts  "  Hamlet,"  down  to  his  brother  oratot 
the  carpenter,  who  plays  the  "  Cock."  Some  criticks  are 
indeed  a  great  deal  like  the  clerk  of  a  militia  company  on  a 
parade  day  ;  their  whole  duty  consists  in  calling  over  the  mus- 
ter roll  of  its  members,  without  either  examining  their  arms, 
or  improving  their  discipline. 

On  Mrs.  Whitlock's  "  Elvira."  we  shall  not  remark ;  for 
the  talent,  whose  aspect  is  too  brilliant  to  be  gazed  at  with 
scrutiny,  or  whose  elevation  is  too  high  for  its  blemishes  to  be 
discerned,  while  it  humbles  envy  by  its  distance,  diminishes 
praise  by  its  brightness. 

Mr.  Rutley  has  many  of  the  indispensable  requisites  of  a 
good  actor  ;  and  some,  without  which  no  advantages  of  edu- 
cation, voice  or  person,  can  ever  make  a  great  one.  The 
intonation  of  his  voice,  and  the  temper  of  his  gesticulation  are 
well  adapted  to  that  province  of  personation,  which  he  sustains 
in  the  theatre.  But  his  distinguishing  feature,  and  that,  which 
will  always  make  its  impression  on  the  publick,  is  the  spirit  of 
his  conception,  which  combines  a  sensibility  to  the  touches  of 
life  as  well,  as  a  judgment  in  the  comprehension  of  character, 
without  which  the  most  boasted  refinement,  with  all  its  affec- 
tation of  scholasdck  superiority,  will  find  its  inanimate  exertions 
lavished  on  an  impassive  publick.  Mr.  Rutley  possesses  this 
grand  quality ;  and  if  he  is  sometimes  misled  by  its  enthusi- 
asm from  the  natural  tones  of  passion  into  those  of  turned 
declamation,  the  errour  is  more  venal,  than  the  studied  want 
of  animation,  the  scientifick  coldness,  which  freezes  the  heart 
by  its  torpidity,  while  it  delights  the  mind  with  its  correctness* 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS.  395 

We  now  come  to  Mr.  Jones  ;  and,  if  we  had  leisure,  we 
would  set  down  to  him.  In  the  course  of  the  season,  fair  occa- 
sion has  been  given  to  applaud  this  gentleman  for  the  under- 
standing and  accomplishment,  he  possesses ;  and,  from  a  justi- 
fiable delicacy,  some  plausible  opportunities  have  been  pre- 
sented to  reprehend  peculiarities,  which  he  has  the  good  sense, 
and  the  disposition  to  correct.  Of  "  Alonzo,"  we  shall  only 
say,  we  have  never  seen  him  perform  any  part  with  so  much 
spirit ;  although  we  have  never  known  him  to  fail  in  discrimi- 
nation. The  key  of  his  voice  is  not  so  well  adapted  to  the 
monotony  of  phlegmatick  narration,  as  to  the  variable  expres- 
sion of  the  passions.  Mr.  Jones  always  conceives  well,  but  he 
sometimes  executes  indifferently.  Let  him  reflect  on  the 
success  of  his  scene  with  "  Pizarro,"  and  remember  that  tal- 
ent so  exerted  will  be  always  so  rewarded. 


Careless  to  learn,  who  praise  us,  or  condemn, 
Unswayed  by  partial  wit,  or  critick  phlegm, 
"We  aim,  ambitious,  to  retrieve  the  stage 
From  errours,  which  obscured  its  weaker  age  ; 
But  while  we  censure,  or  approve  the  scene, 
Praise  is  not  friendship,  nor  is  satire  spleen, 

1  HE  task  of  combining  the  scattered  slips  of  theatrical  excel- 
lence is  to  us,  we  confess,  a  work  of  more  pleasure,  than  that 
of  plucking  the  faded  leaf,  and  pruning  the  excrescent  branch. 
The  one  is  the  exercise  of  taste,  the  otherthe  injunction  of  duty. 


396  .         THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

During  the  last  week,  Mr.  Bernard  has  continued  to  display 
the  flexible  powers  of  a  great  and  discriminating  actor,  in 
the  presentment  of  "  many-coloured  life."  One  of  the  most 
luminous  traits  of  his  merit  is,  that  he  marks,  in  his  delinea- 
tion of  characters,  almost  homogeneous,  the  minutest  shades, 
in  which  they  differ.  Many  comedians  are  too  much  in  the 
habit  of  dashing  the  pound  brush,  and  all,  they  aim  to  throw 
upon  the  canvass,  is  a  dazzling  confusion  of  the  primary 
colours,  without  intermixture,  gradation  or  lineament.  The 
whole  is  illegitimate  ;  a  picture  without  a  likeness.  It  claims 
affinity  to  nothing,  but  one  of  Caliban's  dreams ;  and  thus, 
having  no  human  relations,  it  is  not  entitled  to  Christian  bap- 
tism. Not  so  with  the  designs  of  Mr.  Bernard.  His,  if  not 
the  pencil  of  Titian,  is  at  least  that  of  Hogarth.  While  the 
bolder  features  are  expanded  with  prominent  effect,  the  soft- 
est lines  of  colouring  and  variation  of  conception,  lines  almost 
as  delicate,  as  the  horizon,  that  vanishes  between  the  sea  and 
the  sky,  are,  in  nice  precision,  gently  touched  in  the  correct 
shadowings  of  his  execution.  His  clowns  have  as  many  dif- 
ferent patents  of  rank,  as  a  herald's  office  has  of  the  peerage : 
and,  in  fact,  they  all  seem  to  know  their  own  place  as  well, 
and  show  each  other  as  much  ceremony  and  respect.  Being 
all  exempted  from  the  game  laws,  each  sports  upon  his  own 
manor,  and  holds  it  unworthy  to  poach  upon  that  of  his  neigh- 
bour. "Gregory  Gubbins"  can  laugh  "  till  his  face  be  like  a 
wet  cloak,  ill  laid  up."  "Caleb  Wilkins"  belongs  to  another 
family.  His  head  is  lean  and  sterile,  yet  has  he  been  tauglat 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS.  397 

Falstaff 's  "  first  human  principle  ;  to  forswear  thin  potations 
and  addict  himself  to  Sack."  The  character  is  not  a  sot,  but 
his  humour  has  a  mellower  tilth  from  having  been  husbanded 
and  manured  by  "  the  excellent  endeavour  of  drinking."  In 
"  Two  Strings  to  your  Bow,"  the  features  of  comedy  are 
again  recomposed  and  re-moddled.  "  Lazarillo"  is  one  of 
the  most  piquant  knaves  in  the  drama.  None  but  his  cousin 
german  "  Trappanti"  can  out-joke,  out-wit,  or  out-eat  him  ! 
Again,  Mr.  Bernard  changes  the  scene,  deserts  his  motley 
companions,  and  assumes  the  courtly  and  arduous  character 
of  "  Sir  Peter  Teazle."  Undertaken,  as  we  hear,  at  a  study 
of  two  days  only,  it  was  represented  with  a  maturity  of  design, 
and  a  richness  of  drapery,  worthy  the  industry  and  ingenuity 
of  years.  We  have  never  seen  the  inimitable  wit  of  this  char- 
acter shine  through  so  pellucid  a  medium.  It  suffered  no 
blemish  from  interior  imperfection,  no  divergency  from  an 
unpolished  surface.  It  was  chaste  comedy ;  as  delicate,  yet 
as  beautiful  as  the  tapestry  of  the  Gobelins. 

On  Wednesday  evening,  "George  Barnwell,"  by  young 
Whitlock.  Of  his  application  and  ambition,  what  a  woeful 
example  is  here  !  "  Pity  'tis,  'tis  true  1"  What  his  conception 
of  the  character  might  have  been,  we  know  not;  for  the 
youthful  Roscius  was  so  imperfect  in  the  words  of  the  author, 
that  "  Barnwell"  seemed  to  us,  like  a  fine  child,  stolen  away 
by  Gypsies,  and  stained  with  walnut  juice  to  prevent  detec- 
tion !  At  least,  the  trick  passed  very  well  upon  us,  for  the 
indentity  of  the  person  was  kept  a  profound  secret  from  our 


398  THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

eyes.  This  stricture  is  due  to  talent  itself,  which  should  not 
be  permitted  to  choak  itself  up  with  the  briars  of  its  own  lux- 
uriance. Whatever  may  be  the  scope,  or  the  vanity  of  gen- 
ius, true  it  is,  the  higher  attainments  of  the  stage,  are  the 
rewards  only  of  severe  industry  and  patient  endeavour.  If 
Mr.  Whitlock  would  become  eminent,  he  must  consent  to  be 
instructed.  He  should  beware, 

" lest  some  impulse  accursed 

Make  him  seize  the  wrong  end  of  his  duty  first ; 
And  in  vain  seek  for  fame,  by  a  traverse  conceit, 
Like  the  Turk,  who  crawls  into  his  bed  at  the  feet." 

In  "  Milwood"  Mrs.  Barrett  acquired  great  reputation,  for 
soundness  of  judgment  and  strength  of  talent.  Of  this  charac- 
ter the  passions  are  violent,  as  the  regrets  of  love,  and  the 
anathemas  of  vengeance,  yet  opposite,  as  the  zephyr  whisper- 
ing to  the  violet,  and  the  whirlwind  uprooting  the  oak.  Her 
best  scene  suffered  something  in  effect  from  the  strumming 
"  notes  of  preparation"  sounded  from  the  orchestra.  This 
gross  errour  should  be  corrected ;  for  the  last  scene  of  many 
an  act  has  been  mutilated  by  such  voluntary  cadences  and 
syncopations  of  Catgut, 

"  Whose  squeaks  are  as  dissonant,  grating1  and  harsh, 
As  a  file  rasping-  knots,  or  lewd  frogs  in  a  marsh." 

It  is  neither  our  purpose,  nor  our  pleasure,  to  deal  out  to 
the  publick  a  tissue  of  panegyrick,  but  to  subtract  the  record 
of  fame,  where  the  lovely  individual  stands  registered  in  ex- 
cellence is  a  ranker  offence,  than  to  leave  "  unannointed"  a 


• 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS.  399 

•Whole  tribe  of  demerit,  "with  all  its  imperfections  on  its 
head." 

•Mrs.  Jones,  whose  very  self  is  melody,  and  whose  sweet 
ballads  in  u  Margaretta"  could  not  derive  a  more  touching 
charm,  even  from  the  lyre  of  Sappho,  has  preferred  large 
claims  on  the  publick  admiration,  in  a  great  variety  of  char- 
acter, where  the  comick  spirit,  unaided  by  vocal  fascination, 
is  left  to  exhibit  its  own  powers  in  scenes  of  difficult  interest 
and  execution.  Her  "  Donna  Clara"  is  one  of  the  happiest  of 
these  specimens  ;  and  we  trust  the  repetition  of  the  farce,  in 
which  Mr.  Bernard  and  Mrs.  Jones  so  eminently  excel,  will, 
«n  any  night,  increase  the  attraction  of  the  theatre. 

This  evening  "  The  Voice  of  Nature"  is  again  called  for 
by  the  voice  of  the  publick ;  annexed  to  it  is  the  Opera  of  the 
«  Highland  Reel,"  supported,  perhaps,  by  the  strongest  cast 
of  characters,  which  have  ever  assisted  its  representation  iii 
any  part  of  America.  Mr.  Bernard  is  the  "  Shelty,"  and  Mrs. 
Jones  the  "  Moggy"  of  the  evening.  Surely  the  publick  has 
an  appetite  for  the  luxuries  of  the  scene,  after  all  the  refine- 
ments of  an  opposition.  Else,  they  will  never  know  "  a  hawk 
£rom  a  handsaw." 


406  THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS, 


THE  dramatick  persons  in  the  comedy  of  «  John  Bull"  re- 
quire an  extensive  range  of  talent.  There  are  but  few  plays, 
which  cannot  be  represented  with  a  more  limited  variety  of 
powers ;  and  the  great  and  merited  success  of  this  piece,  is 
no  profitless  tribute  of  thanks  to  our  "  lucky  manager"  for 
that  diversity  and  strength  of  scenick  ability,  with  which  he  has 
embellished  and  enriched  the  publick  amusement.  The  best 
author's  most  favourite  production  may  perish  by  stage  suffo- 
cation, or  tottle  to  death  in  a  rickety  representation.  What 
is  wit  without  its  conductor  ?  Its  flashes  exhaust  by  excursion 
that  fire,  which  direction  would  have  vivified.  Hence  it  is, 
the  characters  of  most  modern  comedies  are  moulded  for  the 
actors,  who  are  intended  to  personate  them.  American  thea- 
tres have  many  performers  of  eminence,  but  it  frequently  hap- 
pens, that  their  force  is  not  so  embodied,  as  to  sustain  the 
weight  of  a  popular  English  drama.  The  play  may  shoot 
vigorously  in  London,  but  will  not  take  root  here,  and  dies  by 
transplantation.  Such,  however,  has  not  been  the  fate  of 
"  John  Bull ;"  though  it  is  certainly  a  comedy,  which  demands 
the  more  arduous  and  and  multiform  efforts  of  the  scene.  The 
representation  of  this  play,  with  an  individual  exception,  would 
honour  any  theatre.  The  design  of  it,  is  to  exhibit  one  of  the 
most  prominent  features  of  the  English  character ;  the  proud, 
robust  honesty,  and  strong  moral  sensibility  of  the  middle 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS.  401 

class  of  society.  "  Job  Thornberry"  is  an  English  tradesman, 
of  such  principles  and  such  feelings.  Impatient  in  honour, 
as  a  peer  ;  yet  assiduous  in  his  occupation,  as  the  humblest 
citizen.  His  character  and  his  fortune  have  been  the  fruits 
of  thirty  years  of  equal  benevolence  and  industry.  Wealth 
and  reputation  have  grown  up  along  with  him.  He  has  an 
only  child,  a  daughter.  Job  Thornberry  is  the  very  best  of 
fathers.  Mary  has  too  much  simplicity  for  so  much  loveliness. 
She  is  the  victim  of  an  illicit  attachment.  Job  has  a  friend, 
who  is  in  distress  ;  and  with  a  nobleness  of  heart  advances,  for 
his  relief,  the  whole  earnings  of  his  life.  His  friend  absconds 
with  the  money ;  and  Job  awakes  on  the  morning,  when  the 
play  opens,  to  find  his  house  filled  with  bailiffs,  and  deserted 
by  his  daughter.  Shame  and  the  fear  of  a  parentald  iscovery 
of  her  indiscretion  have  driven  her,  unconscious  of  her  father's 
misfortune,  to  an  inhospitable  and  almost  desert  heath.  But 
the  parent  nest  is  scarcely  cold,  before  the  little  wanderer  is 
restored  to  it.  Many  touching  incidents,  chaste,  impressive 
sentiments,  and  festive  ebullitions,  crowd  the  action  of  the  play. 
Its  combinations  of  interest  are  so  dexterously  interwoven, 
that  the  audience  is  wound  in  with  the  tissue,  before  it  per- 
eeives  the  charm,  by  which  it  has  been  snared.  The  fable 
finally  restores  Job  to  opulence,  and  gives  to  the  grief-worn 
affections  of  Mary  the  honourable  seal  of  wedded  love. 

Such  was  "  John  Bull ;"  and  he  was  ably  presented  by  Mr. 

Dickenson.     It  has  long  been  our  intention  to  notice  this 

actor  in  a  style  of  commendation,  due  to  his  rare  talent,  highly 

improved  and  polished  as  it  is,  by  indefatigable  attention,  and 

51 


4-02  THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

aided  by  the  discrimination  of  a  sound  judgment,  and  tho 
quick  impulse  of  a  strong,  natural  sensibility.  Four  years 
since,  he  ranked  among  the  obscurest  comedians  of  our  stage. 
Opportunity  had  never  indulged  his  genius  with  an  experi- 
ment of  its  energies.  He  was  silent  and  unknown.  Soon 
after  a  poverty  of  talent  in  the  theatre  compelled  Mr.  Dick- 
enson  into  the  character  of  "  Sir  Oliver  Oldstick,"  in  "  He 
would  be  a  Soldier ;"  and  his  great  success,  though  generally 
acknowledged,  excited  an  applause,  not  unmixed  with  astonish- 
ment. Fame  now  opened  her  course  to  him ;  her  goal  was 
in  view ;  he  has  ever  since  been  mending  his  speed ;  and,  if 
the  race  is  to  be  won  by  sound  bottom,  good  mettle,  whip  and 
spur,  we  shall  soon  behold  this  favourite  actor,  the  growth  of 
our  own  town,  in  possession  of  the  stake.  His  cast  of  charac- 
ter is  commonly  that  of  Parsons  and  Suett ;  but  he  occasion- 
ally deviates  into  the  precinct  of  Munden,  and  returns  with 
fresh  laurels.  His  "Old  Rapid,"  "  Sir  Robert  Ramble,"  and 
"  Nicolas,"  in  "  Secrets  Worth  Knowing,"  are  among  his  best 
assumptions.  In  "  Job  Thornberry,"  for  the  two  first  nights, 
he  appeared  diffident  of  the  task  he  had  undertaken ;  but  dis- 
covered all  the  great  outlines  of  the  character.  On  the  third 
and  fourth  nights,  his  confidence  was  strengthened  by  applause, 
and  his  merit  by  consciousness.  The  honest  petulance  of  his 
anger  is  one  of  his  best  traits.  In  his  scenes  with  Mary,  he 
feels,  if  possible,  too  much,  to  give  effect  to  his  conception. 

Of  Mr.  Bernard,  in  "  Dennis  Brulgrucldery,"  \vc  shall  give 
»o  sketch.    The  reader  must  see  him.    In  this  walk  of  Hibcr- 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS.  403 

man  humour,  he  is  entitled  to  the  Shamrock  of  the  stage. 
Some  of  the  mimick  sons  of  St.  Patrick 

"  Have  been  kind  to  the  brogue,  while  they  murdered  the  jest;" 
but  in  him,  what  is  a  thundering  jest  to  the  audience  appears 
to  be  uttered  with  such  nature  and  simplicity,  that  in  truth 
he  blunders  without  knowing  it.    This  is  the  strict  keeping  of 
character ;  the  test  of  theatrical  excellence. 

Wilmot's  "  Dan"  has  been  justly  commended  in  other 
criticism.  His  personation  was  very  correct.  Can  he  not 
cure  his  voice  of  some  of  its  monotony  ?  Mere  nature  will 
often  modulate  the  expression  of  passion,  better  than  oratory. 
Clowns  are  the  children  of  nature. 

"  Francis  Rochdale"  is  one  of  Mr.  Jones's  happiest  efforts. 
Filial  affection,  high  honour,  love  and  jealousy  are  the  fea- 
tures of  this  character.  Those,  who  have  seen  the  play,  will 
not  need  to  be  told,  that  the  transitions  of  these  passions  and 
principles  were  chastely  and  deeply  marked.  This  gentleman 
lias  one  excellence  in  common  with  Mr.  Bernard ;  speaking, 
or  silent,  he  is  always  in  character.  In  New-York,  the  char- 
acter was  so  indifferently  portrayed,  that  the  manager  is 
advised  to  expunge  as  much  of  it,  as  the  plot  could  spare  from 
the  play.  Here,  it  is  one  of  the  most  prominent  personages  of 
the  drama.  In  some  passages,  however,  Mr.  Jones  was  guilty 
of  a  precipitancy,  not  warranted  by  the  impulse  of  the  scene  ; 
but  in  a  great  proportion  of  the  character,  his  illustration  of 
the  sentiment  and  soul  of  his  author  was  luminous  indeed. 
If  we  mistake  not,  the  powers  of  this  gentleman  are  well  cul- 


404  THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS. 

tivated,  and  might  soar  far  beyond  the  flight  of  young  Roch- 
dale. 

In  the  "  Hon.  Tom  Shuffleton,"  we  hand  Mr.  Wilson,  for 
the  first  time,  to  our  readers  ;  and  (all  cavillings  and  barkings 
to  the  contrary  notwithstanding)  we  do  affirm,  that  he  merited 
9.  very  liberal  exercise  of  the  publick  favour ;  and  that  his 
conception  of  the  character  was  much  more  correct,  than  that 
of  some  of  his  criticks.  Scribblers  should  recollect,  (not  unless 
they  have  ^previously  understood,)  that  "  Shuffleton"  is  a  com- 
pound of  Bond-street  fashion  and  Godwin's  "  political  justice." 
He  is  no  less  a  disciple  of  the  beau  monde,  than  of  the  pro- 
found "  Stupeo."  This  intermixture  of  character  is  well 
preserved  by  Mr.  Wilson.  The.  thing  is  a  caricature,  and 
he  has  hit  it  exquisitely.  The  spleen  of  some  criticks  against 
this  performer  is  almost  ludicrous.  In  "  Sir  Benjamin  Back- 
bite," he  is  reprehended  for  his  rouge !  In  "  Durimel,"  he 
is  commended  for  wearing  little  or  none  !  Mr.  Barrett  is 
also  quizzed  for  using  a  white  handkerchief  in  "Charles  Sur- 
face 1"  The  use  of  a  handkerchief  is  surely  not  the  objection  ; 
Barrett  may  quote  Smith  and  Palmer  for  that.  By  my  troth 
then,  the  critick's  senses  are  offended  at  the  colour  of  it, 
Pray,  Barrett,  appease  his  classical  wrath,  and  change  your 
laundress !  To  such  a  critick  we  shall  only  say, 

"Not  the  splenetick  scowl,  from  e'en  Stagyrite's  eyes, 
Nor  the  frown,  which,  in  trifles,  looks  sulky  and  wise, 
Constitute  the  great  Critick.     Poh,  psha,  pr'ythee,  pish  ; 
Take  this  tete  de  veau  off,  put  some  beef  in  the  dish." 


THEATRICAL  CRITICISMS.  405 

In  "Caroline  Braymore,"  Mrs.  Powell  had  little  to  exhibit, 
but  the  elegant  frivolity  of  dress  and  fashion.  The  character 
was  not  worthy  of  the  talent,  she  possesses,  nor  of  the  esteem, 
the  publick  entertains  of  her.  But  her  taste  embellished  the 
shadows  of  the  author's  thought,  and  snatched  applause  be- 
yond the  reach  of  the  half-drawn  original. 

Mr.  Barrett's  "  Peregrine"  and  Mrs.  Jones's  "  Mary"  have 
both  very  much  improved  since  the  first  night.  They  occupy 
a  wide  space  in  the  publick  estimation  of  the  play.  Mr.  Bar- 
rett, we  think,  infused  into  his  part  some  just  discriminations 
of  sense,  and  many  fine  sprinklings  of  feeling.  The  talent 
of  Mrs.  Jones  has  charmed  us  in  so  many  walks,  both  of 
comedy  and  opera,  that  we  scarcely  know  what  line  to  fix 
upon  as  her  greater  excellence.  With  sentimental  comedy 
she  has  been  less  familiar  j  but  she  is  not  the  less  eminent. 
The  interesting  loveliness  of  person,  and  melodious  tenderness 
of  simple  expression,  required  in  "  Mary,"  were  the  very 
characteristicks  of  Mrs.  Jones.  In  relating  her  story  to  "  Per- 
egrine," the  description  of  her  elopement  from  her  father's 
house,  honours  both  her  judgment  and  feeling.  She  is  the 
very  picture  of  desolate  grief, 

"And  seems,  as  the  tears  o'er  her  eyelids  are  creeping-; 
Like  a  willow,  that  grows  for  the  purpose  of  weeping-." 


A    BRIEF 


SKETCH   OF   SPAIN. 


GEOGRAPHICAL,    HISTORICAL,    AND    POLITICAL 


SPAIN  is  not  a  dead,  but  sleeping  Lion 


The  subsequent  Sketch  was  prepared,  at  a  short  notice,  at 
the  request  of  Messrs.  Russell,  Cutler  and  Bdchcr,  as  prefa- 
tory to  their  account  of  the  dinner,  in  1809,  given  by  the  mer- 
chants of  Boston,  in  honour  of  the  "  Spanish  Patriots"  Mr. 
Paine  was  now  greatly  depressed  in  his  circumstances,  and  his 
health  was  so  much  impaired,  that  he  was  confined  almost  wholly 
to  his  house.  He  was  not  the  owner  nor  possessor  of  a  single 
historical  tract  ;  and,  living  out  of  town,  he  had  not  the  means 
of  consulting  any,  while  writing,  if  it  had  been  necessary  to  his 
purpose.  The  store-house  of  his  memory  alone  supplied  him 
with  the  materials.  It  would  be  difficult  to  find  a  greater 
•volume  of  history  compressed  into  a  narrower  compass  ;  and, 
judging  from  his  conversation,  it  could  not  have  been  reasonably 
inferred  that  the  history  of  this  section  of  the  globe  had  been  the 
subject  of  his  particular  attention.  Jl  mind,  so  capable  of  looking 
"into  the  seeds  of  time/'  and  so  abundantly  replenished  with 
the  lore  of  past  ages,  ought  to  have  been  encouraged  and  might 
have  been  usefully  employed  in  elevated  political  speculations. 

The  her oic k  valour  of  Spain  and  her  illustrious  ally  has 
"plucked  up  her  drowned  honour  by  the  locks  ;"  and  four  years 
have  given  the  substantial  impress  of  truth  to  these  sanguine 
speculations.  Prophecy  surrendered  to  history  upon  the.  renown- 
ed plains  of  Salamanca. 


SKETCH  OP  SPAIN. 


"The  STORK  in  the  heavens  knoweth  her  appointed  time  !** 

AT  this  momentous  crisis  in  the  annals  of  human  liberty,  when 
the  hopes  and  fears  of  mankind  are  trembling  in  the  balance 
with  dark  and  doubtful  destiny,  Spain,  a  nation  peculiarly 
marked  by  heaven  and  history ;  great  though  oppressed,  never 
despairing,  and  now  resuscitated,  has  become  equally  interest- 
ing to  the  mind  of  the  philosopher,  and  the  heart  of  the  phi- 
lanthropist. The  late  eruption  of  publick  virtue  in  this  south- 
ern extremity  of  Atlantick  Europe,  while  it  has  covered  with 
a  warm  suffusion  of  transport  the  cheeks  of  all  brother  patri- 
ots in  every  section  of  the  globe,  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  one 
of  the  wonders  of  this  "  age  of  prodigies  !"  After  an  elaborate 
and  unbiassed  examination  and  comparison  of  the  national 
genealogy,  and  family  features,  of  modern  Europe,  we  feel 
an  ingenuous  pride  in  asserting,  that  this  revolution,  bold  and 
glorious  as  it  is,  is  no  miracle  at  the  south  of  the  Pyrennees. 
There  it  is  a  plain  event,  which  was  justly  to  be  expected, 
from  the  fire  and  the  patience,  the  constancy  and  the  elevation 
of  the  Spanish  character.  Slow  to  determine,  the  Spaniards 
are  resolute  to  act.  True  to  their  plight,  muscular  from  labour, 
53 


410  SKETCH  OF  SPAIX. 

and  familiar  with  peril,  they  glory  in  their  zeal,  contented  t© 
suffer,  and  despising  to  despair.  Such  men  may  be  slaught- 
ered, but  they  can  never  be  disgraced  or  conquered. 

Cordially  as  the  great  family  of  man  has  rejoiced  at  the 
late  uprising  of  this  powerful  though  recumbent  people,  we 
have  no  doubt  but  the  aspiring  dictator  of  Europe  still  beholds 
this  sudden  disruption  of  his  Jesuitical  plans,  as  the  most  sur- 
prising incident  in  the  political  drama,  of  whose  tragical  buf- 
foonery, he  had  so  long  been  the  principal  actor ;  a  drama,  in 
which  he  played  "  the  very  vice  of  kings,"  and  oft  had  made 
some  scores  of  brother  kings,  and  sister,  brother  kings  of 
"  threads  and  patches ;"  and  all,  perdue,  to  put  their  "  pre- 
cious diadems  in  his  pocket  I"  It  is  now  useless  to  add,  that 
this  Imperial  freebooter  was  born  in  the  island  of  Corsica,  in 
the  very  year,  when  it  became  a  patch  on  the  train  of  the 
French  colonies ;  an  island  which  has  produced  but  one  Paoli, 
and  above  a  million  pirates  ;  an  island,  which  in  1768,  became 
a  fief  of  France,  and  in  thirty  years  after  gave  a  tyrant  to  her 
mistress.  This  emigrant  Emperour  had  brought  with  him, 
from  the  mountainous  crag  of  his  nativity,  the  unprincipled 
atrocity  and  barbarism  of  its  predatory  inhabitants,  attempered 
and  commanded  by  the  prodigal  boldness  of  its  once  noble 
chief.  It  is  no  blot  on  the  escutcheon  of  Paoli,  that  he  attend- 
ed as  a  Christian  sponsor,  at  the  baptism  (Oh  word  pro- 
phaned  !)  of  Buonaparte  !  for  then,  he  knew  not  the  mishapen 
babe  of  blood  ;  and  who  shall  look  "  into  the  seeds  of  time  ?" 
Now,  indeed,  (should  this  great  spirit  now  revisit  earth,)  he 
would  blush  at  the  degeneracy  of  his  godson, 


SKETCH  OF  SPAIN.  41 1 

And  startle  at  the  dire  pollution  of  the  rite, 
Which  at  the  sacred  fount  baptized  a  fiend! 
And,  in  the  conscious  horrour  of  the  tomb, 
His  peace-laid  bones  would  shiver  at  the  deed 

In  the  invasion  of  Spain,  the  predictions  of  that  firm  and 
enlightened  patriot  Cevallos  have  been  verified  to  the  amaze- 
ment of  the  usurper,  who  presumptuously  thought  that  she 
had  forgotten  her  Pelagias  and  her  Charles,  as  Holland  had 
her  Van  Trump  and  her  Nassau.  It  is  evident  that  he  mis- 
rated  the  people,  with  whom  he  had  to  contend.  He  had  not 
suspected,  that  the  very  arts,  which  he  employed  to  sever  the 
rock  at  the  basis  of  the  mountain,  would  rend  the  ice  on  its 
summit,  and  produce  an  avalanche  to  crush  him.  Infatuated 
with  triumph,  and  unsated  with  spoil ;  a  hero  compounded  of 
marginal  notes  translated  from  Plutarch  ;  a  politician,  military 
as  Rome,  and  corrupt  as  her  Praetorian  cohort  ;  he  adventured 
on  the  conquest  of  this  degraded,  though  not  degenerated  peo- 
ple, without  knowing  one  spring  in  the  whole  physical  engine, 
that  moved  the  energy  and  the  spirit  of  the  country.  It  is  no 
wonder,  therefore,  that  he  has  lounged  into  the  cathedrals  of 
Spain,  as  a  Choctaw  on  his  travels  would  stroll  among  the 
apparatus  of  a  philosophy  chamber.  Haply,  both  for  a  while 
might  be  mightily  tickled  with  so  novel  an  amusement,  in 
which  their  sole  object  was  to  gaze,  to  admire,  and  to  pilfer. 
The  royal  robber  would  no  doubt  lay  his  hands  on  the  superb 
and  massy  ornaments  of  the  church,  with  as  little  ceremony 
and  concern,  as  the  "  untutored  Indian"  would  have  in  feeling 
andhandling  the  magical  workmanship  of  an  electrical  machine, 


412  S'K  ETC  H  OF  S  PA  IN. 

This  too,  sans  double,  might  all  be  done  from  curiosity,  sheer 
curiosity ;  and  the  results  of  both  experiments  have  been 
equally  curious.  "  Noli  me  tangere"  was  a  motto  which  the 
Indian  never  knew,  and  the  Corsican  had  forgotten ;  and  thus 
they  both  agreed  to  touch  and  take  ;  "  but  no  such  matter  !" 
For  when  the  « itching  palm"  of  the  arch  emperour  sacrile- 
giously attempted  to  purloin  the  treasures  of  the  sacristy,  with- 
out asking  first  the  wings  of  its  sculptured  saints  to  transport 
it,  he  fatally  found,  like  his  unsophisticated  brother  of  the 
woods,  that  his  too  meddlesome  finger  had  struck  the  conduct- 
ing wire  of  the  battery,  and  what  he  had  touched  from  amuse- 
ment, had  knocked  him  down  in  good  earnest ! 

Alexander  raved  at  a  wound,  and  Buonaparte  may  yet  die  of 
a  surprize  ! 

Spain  has  been  celebrated  in  classick  annals,  under  the 
names  of  Iberia,  Hesperia,  and  Hispania.  It  is  so  severed  by 
nature  from  the  continent,  to  which  it  is  attached,  that  it  forms 
in  itself  a  disconnected  and  independent  section  of  the  earth. 
Whoever  glances  on  the  map  will  directly  perceive  that  it  is 
the  very  recess  of  the  continent ;  and  a  modern  traveller  has 
pronounced  it  the  finest  portion  of  the  globe,  either  in  the  old 
world  or  the  new.  In  all  the  revolutions  and  wars  of  Europe, 
from  the  establishment  of  the  Olympick  Games  to  the  present 
epoch,  it  has  been  a  land  of  renown.  Abounding  in  mines  of 
silver  and  other  precious  metals,  which  have  not  been  worked 
since  the  discovery  of  America,  Spain  is  by  many  historians 
supposed  to  have  been  the  Tarshish  of  the  Hebrews  and  Phoe- 
nicians, mentioned  in  scripture.  Six  hundred  years  before  the 


SKETCH  OF  SPAIN.  413 

Christian  era,  the  Greeks  planted  a  colony  in  the  south  of 
France,  and  built  the  city  of  Marseilles,  the  inhabitants  of 
which  to  this  day  retain  the  Grecian  configuration  of  counte- 
nance. They  also  explored  the  adjacent  Spanish  provinces  of 
Catalonia,  Valencia,  Murcia  and  Granada.  It  is  not  certainly 
known,  that  they  ever  carried  their  spirit  of  adventure  to  the 
Pillars  of  Hercules  ;  but  Gibraltar,  the  ancient  Calpe,  was  vis- 
ited by  Carthagenian  enterprize,  and  many  cities  were  built  by 
them  on  the  Mediterranean  shores  of  Spain.  In  the  second 
Punick  war,  Hannibal  destroyed  the  city  of  Saguntum  for  its 
unyielding  attachment  to  Rome,  and  an  insulated  rock,  near 
the  capital  of  Valentia,  still  bears  the  ruins  of  that  heroick 
town,  as  a  proud  monument  of  Spanish  constancy.  Carthage 
fell,  and  Spain  was  annexed  to  the  empire  of  Rome ;  though 
some  of  her  mountains  were  never  ascended  by  the  Imperial 
Eagle.  Soon  after,  Cesar,  Pompey  and  Licinius  Crassus 
formed  their  celebrated  triumvirate  ;  and,  in  the  division  of  the 
world  between  them,  such  was  the  relative  estimation  of  Spain 
in  the  scale  of  nations,  that  Pompey  was  satisfied  with  that 
kingdom  alone  for  his  lot.  He  built  Pampeluna  in  Navarre, 
but  never  quietly  established  his  dominion  in  the  heart  of  the 
country.  By  a  continual  reinforcement  of  veteran  legions,  and 
impregnable  garrisons,  the  Romans  maintained  their  po\ver, 
until  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  century  ;  that  century,  which 
laid  the  foundation  of  all  modern  Europe.  This  era  was  more 
famous  for  the  dissolution  of  an  empire,  which  had  governed 
the  world  for  seven  hundred  years,  than  even  the  thirteenth 
century  for  producing  a  hero,  who  overran  the  world  in  as 


414  SKETCH  OF  SPAIN. 

many  days.  But,  as  the  epoch  of  Gengiskan  seems  to  be  revived 
in  modern  times,  we  trust  that  the  ambitious  despot,  who, 
like  him,  aims  to  stretch  his  sceptre  from  China  to  Hungary, 
may,  like  him,  reign  only  in  the  renown  of  his  exploits.  At 
the  fall  of  the  Roman  empire,  Spain  was  invaded  by  the  Suevi, 
Alani,  and  Goths.  In  a  short  time,  the  Goths  became  the  sole 
masters.  When  Rome  fell,  her  empire  was  broken  into  many 
fragments  :  and  each  member,  like  the  parts  of  a  dissected 
polypus,  sprouted  up  into  a  new  kingdom.  In  this  eventful 
century,  which  beheld  the  prostration  of  her  power,  hot  only 
the  Goths  settled  in  Spain,  but  the  Franks  in  Gaul,  the  Van- 
dals in  Africa,  the  Anglo-Saxons  in  England,  and  the  exiles  of 
Padua  in  the  isle  of  Rialto.  In  7 1 2,  the  Saracens  or  Moors 
(Arabs  and  successours  of  Mahomet),  who  inhabited  the  oppo- 
site coast  of  Africa,  being  invited  by  the  grandees  of  Spain, 
who  revolted  from  their  King  Roderick  for  the  commission  of 
a  crime,  which  banished  the  Tarquins  from  Rome,  landed  a 
powerful  army  in  the  southern  provinces,  and  in  the  year  714 
defeated  the  Gothick  monarch,  who  lost  in  the  contest  his  life 
and  kingdom.  But  still  the  Saracens,  who,  like  the  Saxons 
in  England,  and  Henry  II.  in  Ireland,  treacherously  endeav- 
oured to  subjugate  the  nation,  they  came  to  emancipate,  were 
not  masters  of  this  fairest  portion  of  Christendom.  A  gallant 
remnant  of  the  Spanish  Goths  escaped  to  the  inaccessible 
mountains  on  the  borders  of  Asturia  and  Biscay,  and  preserved 
their  kingdom  and  their  faith.  For  the  greater  security  they 
separated  into  four  states,  Castile,  Arragon,  Navarre  and  Leon  ; 
and  held  out  defiance  to  the  enemy.  Nature  found  bulwarks, 


SKETCH  OP  SPAIN.  415 

and  Spain  heroes.  The  renowned  Don  Pelagius,  and  after  him 
Don  Favella,  in  the  eighth  century,  were  successively  the 
warriour  kings  of  this  unconquered  band ;  and  by  continual 
descents,  ravages,  and  incursions  from  the  mountains,  on  the 
Mahometan  invaders,  wrested  province  after  province  from 
their  possess'  m  :  and  taught  their  faithful  posterity  the  hero- 
ick  lesson,  that  eternal  war,  with  all  its  horrours,  was  a  prefer- 
able evil  to  "  one  day  of  bondage."  Their  descendants  were 
worthy  of  their  progenitors.  Hear  it,  America  !  This  is  no 
dream  of  Philosophy,  nor  romance  of  Panegyrick  !  A  war  of 
seven  hundred  years,  in  which  they  were  often  vanquished, 
but  never  subdued.  A  war  of  thirty  generations  was  waged 
for  Liberty,  and  confirmed  the  doctrine,  and  appeased  the 
manes  of  their  slaughtered  forefathers.  Year  after  year,  the 
Moorish  Crescent  waned.  At  length  it  set  in  blood  !  The 
Mahometan  power  received  a  mortal  blow  at  the  terrible  battle 
of  Tariffa,  in  Andalusia,  near  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar,  in  the 
year  1 340  ;  and  in  1494,  two  years  after  the  bold  and  ambitious 
genius  of  Spain  had  discovered  a  new  world  in  the  western 
hemisphere,  she  expelled  the  Moors  from  their  last  fortress, 
the  city  of  Granada,  and  became  sole  mistress  of  her  lawful 
domains. 

Portugal,  which  on  the  map  of  the  eastern  continent,  ap- 
pears to  be  so  essential  to  the  integrity  of  the  kingdom  of 
Spain,  with  her  experienced  the  vicissitudes  of  the  "  none- 
sparing  wars,"  which  followed  the  decline  and  dismemberment 
of  the  Roman  empire.  In  the  extirpation  of  the  Moors,  the 
south-west  promontory  of  Portugal  was  often  the  field  of 


416  SKETCH  OF  SPAIN. 

valour  and  of  courage.  In  1 139,  their  general  Alphonso,  gav6 
battle  to  the  Mahometans  at  Urique,  a  town  in  the  province 
of  Alentejo,  adjoining  Andalusa,  obtained  a  glorious  victory, 
and  was  crowned  King.  The  portion  of  Portugal,  which  he 
possessed,  he  afterwards  gave,  with  his  daughter  in  marriage, 
to  Henry  of  Burgundy,  grandson  of  Robert,  King  of  France. 
In  this  family  the  Portuguese  crown  continued  until  1580, 
when  Philip  II.  son  and  successour  of  Charles  I.  of  Spain, 
reunited  it  to  his  kingdom.  In  1 640,  the  duke  of  Braganca 
restored  the  independence  of  Portugal,  and  ascended  the 
throne  under  the  title  of  John  IV.  In  this  house  the  crown 
now  remains. 

In  the  sixteenth  century,  the  arms  of  Spain  overawed  all 
Europe  ;  and  her  discoveries  stretched  over  a  great  portion  of 
the  new  continent.  It  was  her  boast,  that  the  sun  never  set 
on  the  empire  of  Spain.  Charles  II.  of  the  Netherlands, 
(eldest  son  of  Philip  II.  Count  of  Holland,  of  the  house  of 
Austria,)  better  known  under  the  title  of  Charles  I.  of  Spain, 
and  Charles  V.  of  the  empire  of  Rome,  ascended  the  throne 
of  Spain  in  the  beginning  of  this  celebrated  century.  Being 
a  competitor  with  Francis  I.  of  France  for  the  empire,  he  de- 
feated the  French  army  with  great  slaughter  at  Pavia,  in  the 
then  imperial  dukedom  of  Milan,  took  the  French  king  pris- 
oner, carried  him  to  Madrid,  and  exacted  a  heavy  price  for 
his  ransom.  This  memorable  battle  was  fought  in  1525  ;  and 
two  years  after  we  find  the  monarch  of  Spain  storming  the 
gates  of  Rome,  and  threatening  the  confederated  powers  of 
Europe  with  the  establishment  of  a  new  western  empire.  Of 


SKETCH  OF  SPAIN.  417 

the  military  prowess  of  Spain,  in  this  era  of  her  greatness,  an 
immortal  monument  exists  in  the  magnificent  palace  of  the 
Escurial,  in  New  Castile.  This  royal  edifice,  the  largest  and 
most  costly  in  Europe,  was  twenty-two  years  in  building,  and 
was  erected  by  Philip  II.  son  of  Charles  I.  to  perpetuate  his 
victory  of  St.  Quintin,  gained  on  St.  Lawrence's  day,  in  1557. 

Charles  II.  of  Spain,  having  no  issue,  named  Philip,  duke 
of  Anjou,  grandson  of  Lewis  XIV.  of  France,  for  his  successour. 
This  gave  rise  to  the  succession  war,  in  which  almost  all 
Europe  was  engaged.  Philip  had  a  formidable  antagonist  in 
Charles,  afterwards  emperour  under  the  title  of  Charles  VI. 
but  he  ultimately  succeeded,  at  the  battle  of  Minaya,  and  was 
crowned  1707.  His  eventual  success,  however,  was  prodi- 
giously promoted  by  the  plausibility  of  his  title,  deduced  from 
his  alliance  to  the  crown  of  Spain,  as  Lewis  had  married  the 
daughter  of  Philip  IV. 

From  this  period  the  glory  of  the  Iberian  name  gradually 
declined,  through  a  long,  luxurious,  waning  century,  in  which 
Spain,  as  a  government,  lost  all  her  firmness  to  foreign  nations, 
and  doubled  her  despotism  on  her  own  subjects.  In  the  wide 
waste  of  her  glory,  we  discern  with  pride,  and  we  commemo- 
rate with  gratitude,  the  noble  effort,  she  made  in  the  cause  of 
American  liberty.  As  the  generous  and  voluntary  deed  of  a 
gallant  and  disinterested  nation,  it  is  worthy  the  brightest  days 
of  her  chivalry.  It  was  heroism  without  reproach,  and  without 
reward  ;  it  was  a  spark  of  Castilian  fire,  which  relumined  the 
quivering  lamp  in  the  clay-cold  cemetery  of  her  honours. 
53 


418  SKETCH  OF  SPAItf. 

A  great  people  can  never  be  debased  by  a  weak  government. 
The  love  of  country  is  a  religion,  which  bums  in  all  bosoms, 
and  submits  to  all  sacrifices.  That  man  must  be  brave,  who 
fears  to  outlive  his  country.  His  home  and  his  grave  are 
sacred  by  the  law  of  nature,  and  the  prescription  of  ages. 
Farms  and  kingdoms  may  be  sold,  but  not  their  inhabitants, 
or  knight  service.  Men  are  not  heirlooms  to  estates,  nor 
sumpter-mules  to  itinerant  kings. 

The  dominion  of  Spain  is  a  stake,  which  in  all  ages  has 
been  desperately  contended  for ;  but,  amid  all  the  conflicts 
and  revolutions  of  Europe,  Spain  has  never  been  conquered. 
She  has  been  partially  subdued,  but  has  never  sunk  under  the 
panick  of  defeat.  The  swords  of  heroes  have  resounded  upon 
her  shield  ;  but  she  has  recorded  her  valour  on  the  helmets 
of  her  assailants.  Beaten  to  her  mother  earth,  she  has  risen 
like  Anteus,  stronger  from  her  fall.  Napoleon,  the  modern 
Tartar,  may  march  over  her  territory  ;  but  never  subjugate 
it.  Every  obstacle  of  nature,  every  principle  of  man,  every 
hope  of  heaven,  are  in  arms  to  oppose  him.  Wherever  the 
eye  turns,  Spain  glitters.  One  soul  is  every  where  ;  one  spirit 
breathes  through  all  life  1  Virgins  and  wives  give  enthusiasm 
to  courage,  while  old  age  and  childhood  lend  sanctity  to  pat- 
riotism. The  whole  region  is  alive ;  above  and  below,  on 
hills  and  in  valleys,  the  empire  is  in  motion.  The  invading 
foe  may  triumph  in  pitched  engagements  ;  but  two  victories 
•would  cost  him  his  crown.  Sanguine  of  his  fortune,  he  would 
probably  be  tempted  by  his  intoxicated  vanity,  to  penetrate 


SKETCH  OF  SPAIN".  419 

the  interiour  of  the  country.  But  here  his  royal  brother,  the 
princely  Tourist,  should  remember,  that  this  is  the  extreme 
bound  of  his  geographical  curiosity  ;  the  "  bourne,  from  which 
no  traveller  returns.*'  Thus  advanced,  he  cannot  retreat. 
Every  march  will  be  the  signal  for  a  battle  ;  every  encamp- 
ment for  a  seige.  The  triumphs  of  his  bulletins  will  be  the 
funerals  ot  his  armies,  and  his  realm  their  charnel  house. 
Victorious  monarch,  here  ends  thy  reign  !  thy  only  paean  was 
a  dirge  ;  thy  only  courtiers,  a  banditti.  Having  existed  by 
rapine,  they  will  die  like  malefactors ;  as  they  have  violated 
religion,  they  will  despair  of  its  consolation  ;  having  barbarized 
nature,  they  will  be  execrated  by  mankind. 

Spain,  together  with  Portugal,  exhibits  a  more  solid  and 
regular  geographical  figure,  than  any  other  country  in  Europe. 
It  forms  almost  a  compact  square,  whose  north  eastern  boun- 
dary is  an  obtuse  angle,  connected  with  the  continent,  and 
separated  from  France,  by  the  Pyrennean  mountains.  Its 
other  outlines  are  sides  of  such  geometrical  proportion,  that 
they  are  nearly  equilateral  and  co-extensive  j  and  are  guarded 
and  washed  by  the  Mediterranean  and  Atlantick  oceans.  This 
peculiar  configuration,  (if  there  be  a  language  in  the  works  of 
Providence,)  indisputably  stamps  this  country  an  independant 
nation.  Its  greatest  length,  extending  from  Cape  Finisterre 
to  Barcelona,  is  six  hundred  miles  ;  its  greatest  breadth,  from 
Cape  Ortugal  to  Tarriffa,  on  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar,  is  five 
hundred  and  fifty  miles.  Thus  constructed,  thus  combined, 
and  thus  defended,  is  the  last  refuge  of  continental  liberty. 


420  SKETCH  OF  SPAIN. 

In  days  of  classick  glory,  Spain  has  been  the  thrifty 
•womb  of  emperours,  heroes,  poets  and  philosophers.  She  was 
the  august  mother  of  Trajan  the  Good,  and  of  Theodosius  the 
Great ;  the  proud  parent  of  Lucan,  of  Seneca  and  Quintilian. 
In  modern  time  she  and  her  sister  Portugal  have  removed 
the  "  ultima  Thule"  of  commerce,  by  patronizing  a  Colum- 
bus, and  giving  birth  to  a  de  Gama. 

Her  kingdom  is  now  the  grand  theatre,  on  which  is  exhibited 
the  last  act,  in  the  eventful  drama  of  human  liberty.  Spain 
presents  on  the  map  that  singular  boldness  of  feature,  which, 
as  a  nation,  has  in  all  ages  marked  her  greatness  and  decision 
of  soul.  She  is  a  Tempe  among  an  amphitheatre  of  precipices. 
A  most  striking  analogy  exists  between  her  surface  and  her 
character  ;  her  geography  and  her  history.  While  her  hills, 
bleak  with  barrenness,  frown  terrible  security  over  her  vallies, 
blooming  with  luxuriance,  she  presents  us  with  a  lineage  of 
heroes,  whose  honour  has  been  for  centuries  the  mirror  of 
courtesy,  and  whose  valour,  the  terrour  of  knighthood.  This 
great  peninsula  of  Europe,  rendered  almost  physically  invin- 
cible by  its  own  mountainous  intersections,  seems  to  have  been 
designed  originally  by  the  master  hand  of  creation,  to  be  at 
once  the  garden  and  the  citadel  of  the  globe. 

With  such  a  title,  she  can  claim  the  world  for  her  friend, 
for  she  has  been  the  friend  of  the  world.  Heroes  are  the 
native  productions  of  her  soil,  for  Italy  and  Greece  arc  her 
kindred  ;  and  while  the  luxuriant  plains  of  Campania  and  of 
Capua  bloom  anew  in  the  verdure  of  her  vineyards,  and  the 


SKETCH  OF  SPAIN".  421 

fragrance  of  her  groves,  she  can  boast  a  Thermopylae  in  every 
mountain,  in  every  field  a  Marathon. 

"Oh  !  never  may 

This  Earth  of  Majesty,  this  Seat  of  Mars  ; 

This  other  Eden,  demi-paradise  ; 

This  fortress,  built  by  Nature  for  herself, 

Against  infection  and  the  hand  of  war  ; 

This  precious  stone,  set  in  "  her  cloud-capt  hills," 

Which  serve  it  in  the  office  of  a  wall, 

Or  as  a  moat  defensive  to  a  house, 

Against  the  envy  of  less  happy  lands  ; 

This  Nurse,  this  teeming  womb  of  royal  kings, 

Feared  for  their  breed,  and  famous  for  their  birth, 

Renowned  for  their  deeds  throughout  the  world, 

For  Christian  service,  and  true  chivalry  ; 

Lie  at  the  proud  foot  of  a  Conqueror  ; 

Nor  be  leased  out,  (she'll  die  pronouncing  it) 

Like  to  a  tenement  or  pelting  farm  !" 


NOTES. 


His  intention  of  noticing  all  Mr.  Painc's  imitations,  &c.  the 
Editor  soon  found  himself  compelled  to  abandon.  Some  are  so 
remote  or  obscure,  that  the  most  patient  collator  could  hardly 
hope  to  detect  them  ;  others,  as  they  are  obvious  and  direct, 
cannot  escape  the  most  careless  reader. 

As  the  labour  of  correcting  the  press  is  new  to  him,  the  Ed- 
itor is  sensible  that  many  false  quantities,  &c.  have  passed 
•without  observation;  and  he  is  extremely  sorry  to  find,  that  not  a 
few  unwarrantable  rhymes  and  accents,  all  of  which  he  had 
purposed  to  distinguish  by  italicks,  are  not  so  distinguished,  for 
these  negligencies  and  others,  some  of  a  more,  some  of  a  less 
pardonable  character,  he  has  indeed  no  excuse  :  he  cannot  how- 
ever but  hope,  that  this  frank,  not  to  say  humble,  confession  of 
his  ojfences  may  in  some  degree  soften  the  censure,  which,  as  he 
feels  himself  to  deserve  it,  the  Editor  does  not  expect  to  avoid* 


NOTES 


TO  THE 


COLLEGE    EXERCISES. 


THEME.    "  AN  UNDEVOUT  ASTRONOMER  IS  MAD. 

Page  7,  line  5. 
Brighter  the  glories  of  the  unbounded  God. 

The  whole  paragraph  is  not  inelegantly  imitated  from  sev- 
eral passages  of  the  Paradise  Lost.  It  shews  that  Milton  was 
among  the  authors,  with  whom  Mr.  Paine  was  early  conver- 
sant. His  acquaintance,  however,  does  not  appear  to  have 
ripened  into  an  intimacy  with  him,  who  describes  himself,  as 
able  to 

feed  on  thoughts,  that  voluntary  move 

Harmonious  numbers. 

p.  7,1.  13,  14. 

Come  then,  sweet  nymph,  thy  mildest  breath  impart, 
To  swell  the  youthful  muse's  artless  reed. 

Of  this  personification  the  part,  where  the  Evening  is  seen, 
as  a  nymph,  playing  on  the  pipe,  is  eminently  happy.  The 
whole  is  indeed  full  of  Sicilian  tenderness.  I  know  not  whether 
Collins  might  not  have  suggested  the  imagery. 

p.  8,  1.  2. 
Whispered  incitement  to  the  bower  of  joy. 

The  word  invitement,  if  not,  as  I  think  it  is,  from  the  Poet's 
own  mint,  is  not  current  with  good  authors ;  it  is  obsolescent, 
perhaps  obsolete. 

•   54 


426  NOTES  TO  THE 

p.  8,  1.  4. 

Urged  their  request,  and  won  my  willing  soul. 

The  zephyrs  in  this  and  the  four  preceding  lines  are  evidently 
copied  from  these  fine  verses  : 

now  gentle  gales, 

Fanning  their  odoriferous  wings,  dispense 
Native  perfumes,  and  whisper  whence  they  stole 
Those  balmy  spoils. 

Milton,  as  Warton  suggests,  here  remembered  his  Elegy  on 
Bishop  Andrewes,  once  master  of  Pembroke  College,  Cam- 
bridge. 

Serpit  odoriferas  per  opes  levis  aura  Favoni, 
Aura  sub  innumeris  humida  nata  rosis. 

Stole  is  from  Shakespeare,  and  balmy  spoils,  odoriferas  op.es, 
probably  suggested  Dryden's  (ann  :  mirab :)  guilty  sweets. 

p.  8,  1.  9. 
Enhedged  with  flowers,  and  shrubs,  and  -vines,  and  thorns, 

Enhedged  is  one  of  Mr.  Fame's  own  words,  but,  as  it  is  not 
xmpoetical,  it  is  perhaps  worthy  of  preservation. 

p.  8,  L  10. 
Which  in  luxuriant  confusion  grew. 

This  line,  partly  from  the  properties  of  its  two  leading  words, 
and  partly  from  the  deep  and  stridulous  aspiration,  required  in 
pronouncing  the  relative  pronoun,  with  which  the  line  begins, 
is  miserably  sluggish ;  and  of  the  same  faults,  other  examples 
might  be  easily  cited.  Indeed  Mr.  Paine's  ear,  at  least  in  early- 
life,  was  but  little  enamoured  of  the  full  and  stately  harmony 
of  Milton's  rhythm.  His  blank  verse  neither  moves 

like  a  proud  steed  reined, 

Champing  his  iron  curb  ; 

nor  like  some  ethereal  power  can  it  be  described,  as 
Gliding  meteorous,  as  evening  mist, 
Risen  from  a  river,  o'er  the  marish  glides, 
And  gather's  round  fast  at  the  labourer's  heel. 
Homeward  returning. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

His  lines  seem  to  creep  tamely  along, 

Streaking-  the  ground  with  sinuous  trace ; 
or  else  they  are  seen 

Wallowing  unwieldy,  enormous  in  their  gait. 
With  that  canon  of  Prosody,  which  requires  that,  in  blank  verse, 
the  pauses  should  never  in  two  successive  lines  fall  in  the  same 
place,  he  was  either  not  then  acquainted,  or,  if  acquainted 
with  it,  he  considered  himself,  as  at  liberty  to  depart  from  a 
rule,  to  which  he  perhaps  found  it  difficult  to  submit. 

p.  8,  1.  24. 
As  waves  on  waves,  so  generations  crowd. 

From  Horace,  Ep  :  ad  Jul :  Flor  :  v.  175  sq. 

t , H  acres 

Hseredem  alterius,  velut  unda  supervenit  undam. 

p.  9,1.  5. 
E'er  sweetly  smile  to  lure  us  from  the  storm. 

Ever,  when  used,  not  as  an  intensive,  but  as  equivalent  to 
always,  does  not  seem  to  admit  of  contraction ;  especially 
when,  as  in  this  line,  it  holds  the  first  place. 

p.  9, 1.11. 
Their  silent  tread  I  hear. 

Silent  is  not  here  to  be  understood,  as  signifying  an  absolute 
privation  of  sound.  The  poet-  means  to  say,  that  the  footfall 
was  so  soft,  as  not  to  be  audible,  except  to  a  strict  and  list- 
ening attention. 

p.  10,  1.  5. 
Of  Sirius  descries  more  distant  worlds. 

Sirius,  though  of  three  syllables,  is  always  pronounced  in  the 
time  of  two. 

p.  10, 1.  6. 

These  are  thy  wonders,  great  Jehovah,  these. 
FrpmParad :  Lost,b.  iv.  p.  153  sqq.  and  Thompson's  Hymn. 


428  NOTES  TO  THE 

I  know  not  whether  some  other  reason,  than  its  unutterable 
sanctity,  may  not  have  influenced  the  English  poets,  in  abstain- 
ing from  the  word  Jehovah.  Milton  uses  it  but  three  times  in 
the  Paradise  Lost. 

p.  10,  1.  14. 

In  Nature's  language,  understood  by  all. 
From  Addison's,  (if  it  be  not  Marvel's)  Paraphrase  of  the 
19th  Psalm. 

p.  10,  1.  19. 

'  Tis  thou  who  check'  st  in  mid  career  the  storm. 

Yet  half  his  strength  he  put  not  forth,  but  check'd 
His  thunder  in  mid  volley.  P.  L.b.  iv. 

p.  10,1.22. 

And  their  pent  ivrath.  in  bursting  lightnings  pour. 
Pent  is  a  favourite  with  Milton.     Instances  might  be  cited 
from   Sampson  Agonistes,  Comus  and   Paradise  Lost  ;    and 
Phillips,  the  earliest  of  Milton's  imitators,  discovers  a  suitable 
fondness  for  this  verbal  adjective. 

p.  10,1.24. 
From  its  foundations  heave  the  boiling  deep,. 

From  their  foundation,  loosening  to  and  fro, 
They  plucked  the  seated  hills.  P.  L.  b.  vi. 

p.  10,  1.  27. 
Thou  smil'st  ,•  the  main  subsides^  to  smile  with  thec. 

Virgil,  in  his  first  JEneis,  represents  Neptune,  as  commuuii 
eating  of  his  own  serenity  to  the  ocean,  and  causing  it,  almost 
by  a  look,  to  settle  from  a  dark  and  weltering  uproar  to  silence 
and  a  calm.  What  jEschylus,  in  the  apostrophe,  that  breaks 
from  Prometheus  in  the  n^w,  :  Aeo-fi  :  v.  89,  sq.  calls  the 

...................  toovlioiv  Tf  x.v/jta.la>v 


which  Lucretius,  lib.  i,  v.  8,  imitates  by  rident  aquora  pontiy 
is  not  a  smooth  and  glassy  tranquillity  ;  such,  as  Anacrcop 
describes  in  the  following  lines, 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES  429' 


which  Virgil,  according  to  Fischer,  seems  to  have  rendered  in. 
the  Alexis,  by  cum  filaddum  -uentis  staret  mare  ;    it  is  such  a 
sharp  and  lively  ripple,  as,  glancing  to  the  sun,  may  be  poeti- 
cally said  to  enjoy  the  soft  air  and  cloudless  sky.  In  this  sense 
Milton   without  doubt,  understood    the    Father  of  Tragedy 
and  the  Hierophant,  as  Dr.  Darwin  would  haye  called  Lucre- 
tius, of  Nature. 
...........  As  when  to  them,  who  sail 

Beyond  the  Cape  of  Hope,  and  now  are  past 
Mozambick  offal  sea,  northeast  winds  blow 
Sabean  odours  from  the  spicy  shore 
Of  Araby  the  blest,  with  such  delay 

Well  pleased,  they  slack  their  course,  and  many  a  league 
Cheered  with  the  grateful  smell  old  ocean  smiles.  P.L.b.iv.  159  sqq. 
It  is  not  unworthy  of  notice,  that  Milton,  speaking  of  the 
subsiding  flood,  says, 

..................................  the  clouds  were  fled, 

Driven  by  a  keen  north-wind,  that  blowing-  dry 
Wrinkled  the  face  of  deluge,  as  decayed:     P.  L.xi-  842,  sqq. 
But  this   wrinkling  wind,  it  is  to   be  observed,  was  a  keen 
north  wind. 

Milton,  however,  and  Lucretius  and  JLschylus  are  hardly 
remembered,  when  one  recalls  the  simple  narrative  of  t\vo 
Evangelists,  and  the  more  impressive  and  graphical  represen- 
tation of  a  third,  who  instead  of  relating,  like  St.  Matthew  and  St. 
Luke,  the  mere  fact,  presents  to  us  the  Saviour  rebuking  the 
winds.  St.  Mark's,  'ZiuTrct,  Trsptfuucro  was  full  in  Milton's 
recollection,  when  he  made  the  Son,  girt  with  omnipotence, 
standing  at  the  gates  of  Heaven,  look  out  into  the  vast  im- 
measurable abyss,  and  thus  address,  not,  as  after  the  creation,  a 
single  element,  but  the  -void  and  formless  infinite,  as  he  else- 
where denominates  Chaos. 

Silence,  ye  troubled  waves,  and,  thou  deep,  peace, 
Said  then  th*  omnifick  word,  your  discord  end. 
p.  10,  1.  30. 

Before  thy  chariot  wheels,  self-roll:  r.^-. 
Pale  awe. 

Milton's  chariot  of  fraternal  Deity  is  instinct  with  spirit. 
No  sooner  is  it  wanted,  than  it  appears,  flashing  thick  fames, 


430  NOTES  TO  THE 

and  is  seen  to  await  the  conqueror.  Nor  does  it  merely 
move,  as  from  itself;  it  shares  in  the  conflict,  and  partakes  of 
the  victory.  The  whole  passage  is  wonderfully  splendid,  and 
one  can  hardly  read  it,  without  deriving  from  the  description 
some  portion  of  that  turbid  rapture,  in  which  it  was  conceived. 
The  place  in  the  seventh  book,  though  similar  is  much  infe- 
rior. From  the  one  his  recollection  of  Homer's  Vulcan  may 
be  gathered  :  in  the  other  we  discover  Milton's  intimacy  with 
the  Hebrew  Scriptures. 

THEME.  TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  THE  LATE  GOV.  BOWDOIN. 

"  Pallida  mors  sequo  pulsat  pede  pauperum  tabernas, 
Regumque  turres."  HOR.  4th  Ode,  1st  book. 

p.  15,  1.  5. 

Beneath  thick  glooms  the  distant  landscape  fades. 

Suggested  probably  by  Gray, 

Now  fades  the  glimmering-  landscape  on  the  sight. 

They  are  both  so  refreshing,  that  I  know  not  which  to  prefer, 
Gray's  Evening  or  Milton's  Morning  Scenery. 

Under  the  opening  eyelids  of  the  morn  we  drove  a  field. 

The  Elegiack  copied  the  Epick  poet.  In  the  Cambridge 
M.S.  S.  and  the  first  (1638)  edition  of  Lycidas,  it  is,  instead 
of  "  opening,"  "  glimmering  eyelids."  And  here,  as  they 
were  both  favourites  of  Mr.  Paine,  I  cannot  refrain  from  con- 
templating, as  compared  with  each  other,  these  two  great, 
though  by  no  means  equal  or  similar  poets. 

Gray  has  little  invention  ;  but  his  imitations  are  exquisite  ; 
his  landscapes  are  elysian ;  and  from  his  sky  there  beams  a 
soft  and  tender  azure,  to  which  the  verdure  of  his  earth  is  ad- 
mirably adjusted. 

Nor  is  Milton,  perhaps,  less  of  a  copyist  than  Gray.  But 
his  obligations  are  not  so  easily  detected,  as,  instead  of  borrow- 
ing from  the  moderns,  the  ancients  seem  to  throng  about 
him,  and  intreat  him  to  consider  their  treasures,  as  his 
own.  He  yields  to  their  importunities,  and  there  is  hardly  an 
author  of  Greece  or  Rome,  that  has  not  furnished  a  column 
or  a  frieze  or  a  capital  to  that  immortal  poem,  which,  like  the 
structure  described  toward  the  end  of  the  first  book, 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  431 

discovers  wide 

Within  her  ample  spaces. 

Gray's  fancy  loves  to  gaze  fondly  at  the  evening  star ;  Mil- 
ton's imagination  delights  to  look,  as  in  defiance  of  its  wither- 
ing splendour,  at  the  morning  sun. 

Gray  is  fond  of  listening  to  the  Curfew ;  it  is  sweet  to  his 
ear,  and  seems  to  his  melancholy  mind,  like  the  requiem 
of  another  day,  gone  to  mingle  and  be  lost,  like  a  drop,  in  the 
abyss  of  the  past. 

It  is  one  of  Milton's  pleasures  to  hearken  with  a  kind  of 
transport  to  the  midnight  bell,  as  its  deep  and  solemn  tones, 

Over  some  wide  watered  shore, 
Swinging  slow  with  sullen  roar, 

becoming  more  impressive  from  distance  and  darkness,  breathe 
back  all  their  harmony  from  a  full  and  faithful  echo. 

The  vales  of  Phceacia  and  the  charms  of  the  vernal  Calypso 
are  among  Gray's  delights  ;  Milton  loves  the  autumnal  graces 
of  Penelope  and  the  rocks  of  Ithaca. 

Milton's  eye  is  purged  with  Euphrasy :  he  ascends  the 
specular  mount  of  his  learning  and  genius,  and  all  time,  the 
future  as  well  as  the  past,  seems  to  lie  open  to  his  inspection. 
Gray  is  of  feebler  opticks  :  his  solemn  scenes  are,  by  no  means, 
frequent;  they  are  always  fugitive ;  he  catches  but  a  glimpse 
of  the  years  to  come,  but  that  glimpse  is  more  than  enough ; 
it  overpowers  the  sense  ; 

Visions  of  glory,  spare  my  aching  sight ! 
Ye  unborn  ages,  crowd  not  in  my  soul. 

Gray,  in  his  aversion  from  active  life,  and  his  ardent  devo- 
tion to  the  Belles  Lettres,  resembles  Paris  retreating,  even 
at  the  hazard  of  reproach,  from  the  field,  and  smothering 
the  sense  of  shame  in  the  arms  of  his  mistress ;  Milton,  in 
his  love  of  controversy,  whether  civil  or  religious,  seems  to 
despise  his  darling  studies,  as  Hector,  when  the  clarion  was 
ringing  in  his  ears,  could  hardly  find  time  or  voice  to  commend 
his  wife  and  infant  to  heaven. 

Of  Milton,  it  may  be  said,  that  he  has  no  supenour ;  of 
Gray,  that  his  equals  are  rarely  found. 


432  KOTES  TO  tH£ 

p.  15,1.  11,  12. 

In  yonder  spot  Fame*s  great  colossus  lies , 
A  Bowdoin  moulders  in  the  humble  tomb  ! 

This  half  Stanza  subtracts  from  the  effect  of  the  three  stanzas 
by  a  wretched  hyperbole. 

p,  16,  1.  7. 
The  gales  with  sighs  the  awful  -voice  resound. 

The  error,  by  which  certain  letters  and  sounds,  being  com- 
pounded, are  made  to  rhyme  with  the  same  sounds  and  letters 
not  compounded,  though  not  without  examples  even  in  Pope, 
is  indefensible. 

p.  16, 1.  15,  16. 

And  hang  on  the  tomb  their  -votive  wreath, 
A  wreath  with  mingled  honours  fondly  wove. 

For  on  read  ufion.  The  making  of  virtue  and  philosophy 
to  lament  at  Mr.  Bowdoin's  tomb,  is  a  pretty  thought ;  but 
the  extravagance  of  the  panegyrick  is  excusable  only,  as  it 
comes  from  a  youth. 

p.  17,1.  8. 
He  shone  the  sun  of  fihilosofihick  light. 

Mr.  Bowdoin  was  president  of  the  American  Academy  of 
Arts  and  Sciences.  Among  the  transactions  of  that  body  may 
be  found  some  of  his  philosophical  papers. 

p.  17,  1.  9. 

In  him  the  jiatriot  -virtues  all  combined. 

Mr.  Bowdoin  was  for  several  years  Governour  of  Massa- 
chusetts. 

p.  17,  1.  24. 
Strong,  without  rage,  and  without  _  flattery,  sweet. 

Another  parody  on  Sir  John  Denham's  memorable  line 
in  his  apostrophe  to  the  Thames. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  433 

p.  17,  1.  25. 

When  Massachusetts'  patriot  sages  met. 
The  Convention  summoned  to  determine,  whether  Massa- 
chusetts would  adopt  the  Federal  Constitution,  as  accepted 
and  recommended  by  the  General  Convention,  in  1787. 

THEME.  "  KNOW  THEN  THYSELF  ;  PRESUME  NOT  GOD  TO  SCAN  ; 
THE  PROPER  STUDY   OF   MANKIND   IS  MAN." 

p.  20,  1.  S,  12,  20. 

And  all  the  Loves  and  Graces  shone. 
He  blushed,  he  sighed,  and  asked  her  hand. 
And  Eden  echoed  with  delights. 

The  allegory,  by  which  nature  and  virtue,  being  husband 
and  wife,  become  the  parents  of  happiness,  is  tolerably  well 
sustained.  It  wants,  however,  ease  and  elegance  ;  perhaps, 
because  it  is  too  long  continued. 

p.  21,  1.  6. 

When  Zefihyrfrom  the  "western  cave. 
So  in  the  Valedictory  Poem  : 

Long  have  the  Ze.p.hyrs  in  their  sea-green  caves, 
Shunned  the  calm  bosom  of  the  slumbering  waves. 
For  this  image  and  others  of  near  affinity  to  it  Mr.  Paine 
seems  to  have  conceived  a  peculiar  affection.     The  same  or 
a  kindred  phraseology  is  of  frequent  occurrence. 

p.  21,1.  12. 

Thick  lowering  clouds  the  heavens  deform. 
JkTand  n,  though  widely  dissonant,  are  often  employed  by 
the  earlier  poets  as  homotonous.  Even  the  father  of  English 
satire,  who  may  be  said  to  have  distanced  his  contemporaries 
not  less,  than  his  immediate  predecessors,  by  a  full  century, 
in  this  respect  is  not  faultless.  One  of  many  instances  shall 
suffice.  In  the  Absalom  and  Achitophel,  he  makes  the  last 
syllable  of  Absalom,  lorn,  jingle  with  none.  Nor  is  Pope, 
scrupulous  as  he  was,  almost  to  fastidiousness,  in  assorting  his 
rhymes,  without  one  example,  at  least,  of  the  same  offence. 
In  the  Dunciad  he  couples  damn  and  man. 
55 


434  NOTES  TO  THE 

p.  22,  1.  13. 

From  his  smooth  tongue  siveet  fioison  flowed. 
Of    vice,  as    personified    in    the    preceding  Stanzas,  Mr. 
Paine  has  borrowed  many    features  from  Milton.       To  the 
same  poet  he  is  indebted  for  the  allegory  in  the  beginning 
of  the  Poem. 

p.  22,  1.  23. 

Was  heard  the  echo  of  the  lawn. 

Lawn  is  here  used,  as  consonant  to  the  last  syllable  of  for- 
lorn. But,  so  used,  it  is  utterly  barbarous  and  inexcusable. 
Or  and  atv  do  not  come  from  the  same,  or  even  from  a  similar 
articulation  ;  they  are  either  not  at  all  alike,  or  else,  which  is 
\vorse,  all  similitude  is  lost  in  identity. 

p.  23,  1.  8. 

And  Eden* s  fading  beauties  ivefit. 

This  sympathy  of  the  material  with  the  moral  world  is 
finely  touched  in  the  Paradise  Lost.  Book  xi.  v.  782  sqq.  and 
V.  1000  sqq. 

p.  23,  1.  24. 

Here  Hafifiiness  nvith  him  retreats. 

Hither,  had  the  metre  permitted,  is  the  proper  word.  The 
same  sacrifice  of  grammar  to  prosody  meets  us  in  the  "  Pro- 
gress of  Society  :" 

"A  centre  must  be  where  its  motions  tend." 

Poets,  however,  on  the  other  as  well,  as  on  this  side  of  the 
Atlantick,  treat  these  humble  adverbs  with  little  respect. 

p.  24,  1.  9. 

Severe  Experience  soon  will  learn. 

Without  resorting  to  Shakespeare  or  the  Bishop's  Bible, 
this  abuse  of  speech  may  be  palliated  by  this  example  of  Sir 
William  Biackstone.  Com.  vol.  i.  p.  428.  "Apprenticeships," 
(says  he,  speaking  as  an  advocate  for  the  "exclusive  part,'*  as 
he  calls  it,  of  5th  Eiiz.  cap.  4,  §.  31.)  "  are  useful  to  the  Com- 
monwealth, by  employing  of  youth,  and  learning  them  to  be  early 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  435 

industrious."     Learn   is    still    considered   and  employed,  as 
synonymous  with  teach  in  Scotland. 

p.  24,  1.  20. 
And  all  the  mind's  dark  host  afifiears. 

Collins's  "  Shadowy  tribes  of  Mind"  was,  perhaps,  in  Mr. 
Paine 's  memory. 

THEME.       "  HUMANUM  EST  ERRARE." 

To  this  piece,  Milton  has  furnished  much  of  the  sentiment, 
and  not  a  little  of  the  diction.  It  is  a  happier  attempt  at  blank 
verse,  than  the  theme  on  Astronomy. 

p.  31,  1.  20. 
Before  yon  sun,  in  youthful  sfilendour  clad. 

Collins  in  his  Ode  on  the  poetical  character,  the  noblest,  as 
it  strikes  me,  of  his  noble  efforts,  thus  addresses  the  sun : 
And  them,  thou  rich-haired  youth  of  morn. 

Golden-tressed,  which  answers  to  rich-haired,  and  probably 
suggested  the  compound  to  Collins,  is  used  by  Milton,  in  his 
version  of  the  136th  Psaim.  He  afterwards  transferred  it  to 
his  Reason  of  Church  Government,  where  he  calls  the  laws, 
the  king's  "  illustrious  and  sunny  locks,"  "  those  bright  and 
weighty  tresses,"  "  the  golden  beams  of  law  and  right." 

Phoebus  and  Bacchus  are,  indued,  with  unfading  youth, 

Solis  seterna  est  Phcebo  Bacchoque  juventas, 

Nam  decet  intonsus  crinis  utrumque  deiim.     TibulJL  I.  4  37. 

p:  32,  1.  4. 

The  artful  traitress,  with  Circassian  smiles. 
Although  the  manuscript  is  directly  against  me,  I  cannot 
but  think  that  Mr.  Paine  meant  to  write  Circean. 

p.  32.  I.  22. 

Where  crag's  menace  d  Jiance  to  the  sky. 
If  examples  were  wanting,  the  sweetness  of  the  word,  as 
thus  accented,  might  excuse  the  poet  for  removing  the  accent 
from  the  first  to  the  last  syllable  of  menace. 


436  NOTES  TO  THE 

p.  83,  1.  11. 

'Tivas  his  to  ivander  mid  tenebrious  ivilds. 
.  Mr.  Paine  remembered  Tasso's  enchanted  grove. 

p.  34, 1.  6. 
Where  boiling  quicksands  rave  ivith  maddening  foam. 

Virgil,   like  his    own  ^Eolus,  was  fond  of  embroiling   the 
elements. 

Cavum  conversa  cuspide  montem, 

Impulit  in  latus. 

Mr.  Paine  has  clone  little  more,  than  turn  the  following  lines 
into  English : 

: Insequitur  cumulo  prseruptus  aquse  mons  ; 

Hi  summo  in  fluctu  pendent :  his  unda  dehiscens, 

Terram  inter  fiuctus  aperit.    Furit  xstus  arenis,     1 JE^ :  105  sqq. 

ON  SENSIBILITY. 

p.  40,  1.  13. 

Which  wants  that  nervous  -vigour  to  acquire. 
The  construction  of  this  line,  beside  that  it  does  not  convey 
the  author's  meaning,  is  abhorrent  from  every  idiom  of  the 
language. 

A    PASTORAL. 

p.  42,  1.  6. 

And  early  linnets  hail  the  purjile  sjiring. 
Pur/ile  sjiring  is  from  Virgil :  ~uer  fiurfiureum,  Moeris  v.  40. 
Purple,  perhaps,  more  in  its  secondary ,than  in  its  primary  sense, 
is  dear  to  the  poets.  Gray  has  the  fiur/ile  light  of  lo-ve^  which, 
notwithstanding  the  Greek  from  Athenaeus,  he  certainly  took 
from  the  jEneis  v.  1,591  sq.  Phrynicus  had,  probably,  the 
same  placet  in  his  eye.  Virgil,  as  he  was  not  too  squeamish 
to  borrow  from  others,  is  sometimes  indebted  to  himself. 
Aristseus,  about  to  consult  Proteus,  is  invested  by  Cyrene  with 
more  than  human  qualities. 

Haec  ait,  et  liquidum  ambrosia;  diffundit  odorem, 

Quo  totum  nati  corpus  perduxit ;  at  illi 

Uulcis  compositis  spiruvit  crinibus  aura, 

Atque  habilis  membris  venit  vigor.          IVGEORG.  415  sqq. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  437 

These  verses,  somewhat  heightened,  are,  in  the  first  ^Eneis, 
divided  between  Venus  and  her  son.  The  decoram  ccesariem 
of  the  hero,  is  not,  indeed,  like  the  shepherd's  comjiositis  crin- 
ibus  ;  it  rather  resembles  the  purjiureum  rrincm  or  capillum  of 
Nisus,  to  whose  fatal  lock  a  Greek  poet  does  not  scruple  to 
apply  ecB-etvurce,^  to  mark,  I  suppose,  its  uncommon  beauty. 

In  a  verse,  which  expresses  the  rapidity  ot  the  Po,  by  the 
brisk  and  voluble  dactyls,  of  which  it  is  composed,  Virgil  calls 
the  sea  purple. 
Iii  mare  purpureum  (won)  violentior  effluit  amnis.          IV.  GEORG.  373. 

An  intense  white,  such  as  a  swan's  plumage  or  virgin  snow, 
exposed  to  a  bright,  sun  throws  back  a  reflection,  which,  as  it 
dazzles  the  eye,  seems  to  give  a  slight  tinge  of  purple  to  the 
snow  or  plumage.  Hence  Horace's  fiurfile  swans  and  the 
jiurfile  snow  of  Albinovanus.  Perhaps  the  Adriatick  in  a 
clear  day  may,  instead  of  blue,  appear  purple  to  a  distant 
spectator,  as  to  one  more  distant  it  would  appear  black. 

p.  42,  1.  22. 
And  toiling  bees  explore  the  flagrant  rose. 

For  flagrant  read  fragrant.  This  distich  is  imitated  from 
Virgil. 

p.  44,  1.  11. 
Elegiack  ditties  chant  o'er  Spring's  sad  urn. 

Of  the  word  elegiack  the  accent  reposes,  not  on  the  second, 
but  on  the  third  syllable. 

FORENSICK    DISPUTATION. 

p.  47,  1.  1,2. 

When  Newton  rose^  sublimely  great,  from  earf/i. 
And  boldly  shoke  whole  systems  into  birth. 

Pope's  Epitaph  on  him,  who,  as  he  never  uttered  the  name 
of  God,  without  pausing,  as  in  devotion,  would  have  shud- 
dered at  the  irreverent  parody  inscribed  on  his  monument,  is 
clumsily  disguised  in  this  distich. 


438  NOTES  TO  THE 

PROGRESS    OF    SOCIETY. 

p.  47,  1.  24,  25. 

Her  /aw*,  unchanged  by  Time's  insidious  //owe?*, 
Unravel  centuries  or  revolve  an  hour. 

The  same,  or  a  similar  thought,  much  more  elegantly 
displayed,  presents  itself  in  a  song,  which  for  simple  and 
delicate  touches  is  unequalled.  Rogers's  verses  however 
were  not  published,  when  this  poem  was  written. 

p.  48,  1.  16. 
Put  in  her  sickle  for  one  "  sheaf"  of  fame. 

Here,  I  suspect,  the  author  cannot  be  acquitted  of  a  childish 
paranomasia. 

p.  49,  1.  9. 

As  high  as  heaven  its  azure  arch  sustains. 

This  and  the  thirteen  succeeding  lines  are  marked  by  great 
vigour  of  conception. 

p.  50,  1.  5,  6, 

To  teach  the  rapid  moments,  as  they  fly , 
Beyond  the  utmost  ken  of  mortal  eye. 

This  couplet  is  transplanted  from  Mr.  Paine's  "  Preface,'*  to 
the  College  Exercises. 

p.  51, 1.13,  14. 

The  rising  manners  of  an  infant  state 
Will  be  the  fiarent  of  its  future  fate. 

These  lines  are  big  with  political  wisdom. 

p.  51,  1.  25. 

These  arm  with  strength,  or  shrink  the  trembling  nerve. 

This  and  the  correspodent  line  might  be  easily  reduced 
to  sense  and  grammar.  I  feel  little  doubt,  that  upon  revision 
Mr.  Paine  would  have  thus  altered  the  couplet : 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  439 

Tl\ist(virtue)  arms  with  strength,  that  (wee)  shrinks  the  trembling  nerves, 
That  taints  the  blood,  and  this  its  health  preserves. 

Or, 

One  fires  the  system,  one  its  tone  preserves. 

p.  53,  1.  19. 

Tygers  no  more  a  savage  nature  claim. 
A  flat  and  feeble  echo  of  one  of  Pope's  feeblest  and  flattest 
lines. 

p.  53,  1.  22. 

Seemed  a  civilian  to  the  monsters,  men. 
Civilian  is,  I  believe,  never  used  as  the  opposite  of  barbarian. 
I  know  not  whether  the  word  has  ever  relaxed  from  its  tech- 
nical meaning. 

p.  54,  1. 
Suspicion,  Crucify,  Revenge  resort. 

There  is  something  in  Claudian  in  Ruf:  lib.  i.  not  unlike 
this  privy  council. 

p.  56,  1.  3. 

The  tear  descended  from  the  world  above. 
This  and  the  five   next  lines  are  a  well  known  passage  of 
Tristram  Shandy,  done  into   verse.      Sterne,  perhaps,  is  not 
safe  from  the  charge  of  affectation. 

p.  58,  1.  14. 

Inclement  Sirius,  and  the  rugged  soil. 

I  am  afraid  that  Custom  has  confined  inclement  to  cold, 
and  that  it  cannot  now  be  applied  indifferently  to  cold  and 
heat. 

VALEDICTORY    POEM. 

(For  1791,  read  1792- ) 

The  solemnity,  which  produced  this  poem,  is  extremely 
interesting  ;  and,  being  of  ancient  date,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  that 
it  may  never  fall  into  disuse.  His  affection  for  the  University 
Mr.  Paine  cherished,  as  one  of  his  most  sacred  principles.  He 
constantly  attended  the  annual  commencement,  and  never 


440  NOTES  TO  THE 

failed  to  contribute  his  full  contingent  to  the  elegant  hilarity 
of  that  festival.  Of  this  poem  Mr.  Paine  always  spoke,  as  one 
of  his  happiest  efforts.  Coming  from  so  young  a  man,  it  is 
certainly  very  creditable,  and  promises  more,  I  fear,  than  the 
untoward  circumstances  of  his  after  life  would  permit  him  to 
perform. 

The  four  first  lines  are  imitated  from  Ovid,  not  very  dis- 
tinctly remembered  ;  and  the  last  couplet  reminds  one  of  the 
parting  interview  between  Johnson  and  Savage,  as  described 
by  the  former,  in  his  imitation  of  Juvenal's  third  Satire. 

p.  60,  1.  25. 
Smile  time  along ,  &c. 

Though  it  wants  both  authority  and  analogy,  yet  this  phrase, 
which  Mr.  Paine  uses  more  than  once,  is  poetical. 

p.  61,1.  1. 

Hail,  winding  Charles^  &c. 

The  Charles,  as  here  addressed,  is  but  Sir  John  Denham's 
Thames,  compelled  to  steal  through  the  salt  marshes  of  Cam- 
bridge, instead  of  straying  through  wanton  -vallies^  to  the 
Ocean. 

p.  66, 1.  9. 
While  transport  glistens  from  the  falling  tear. 

The  same  concetto  is  repeated  in  Mr.  Paine's  communica- 
tion on  the  Female  Asylum. 

p.  67, 1.  15. . 
While  gaily  sfiarkling  from  the  realm's  of  night. 

From  the  "bard." 

Faii%  laughs  the  morn,  &c. 

Gray's  allegory  in  the  verses,  to  which  I  allude,  is  very 
noble.  Mr.  Paine  here  resumes  the  imagery  of  the  opening 
paragraph. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  441 

PROGRESS    OF  LIBERTY. 

Whether  it  proceeds  from  the  fertility  of  the  subject,  or  the 
poverty  of  our  language,  which,  though  enriched,  beside  its 
accessions  from  modern  tongues,  by  no  niggardly  infusion 
of  the  Latin  and  Greek,  may  still  be  inadequate  to  the  praise 
of  that  blessing,  without  which  every  other  species  of  external 
prosperity  is  worthless  and  insipid  ;  whatever  be  the  cause,  it 
is  unquestionably  true,  that  of  the  English  poets,  not  excepting 
Blackmore  and  Thomson,  each  of  whom  has  written  an  elabo- 
rate poem  on  Liberty,  none  has  left  us  a  panegyrick  such,  as 
the  first  and  noblest  attribute  of  civil  life  deserves.  Cowper's 
Task  contains  a  few  good  lines  about  Liberty ;  and,  as  if  some 
seraph  was  breathing  his  soul  through  the  strings,  there  occa- 
sionally swells  from  the  harp  of  Milton  such  symphonies,  as 
might  almost  start  the  shade  of  Brutus.  Nor  does  Akenside, 
in  his  great  poem,  which,  together  with  his  hymn  to  the  Nai- 
ades, has  ensured  him  an  undying  fame,  forget  the  last  of  the 
Romans,nor  the  cause  in  which  Brutus  was  willing,  for  the  gen- 
eral good  to  become  the  priest  of  patriotism,  that  by  his  own 
hands  he  might  offer  up  one  of  his  best  friends,  as  an  atoning 
sacrifice  to  the  Commonwealth. 

p.  72,  1.  25,  26. 
One  murder  marks  the  assassin9 s  odious  name. 

From  the  late  Bishop  of  London's  Seatonian  prize  poem  on 
Death. 

p.  74, 1.  10. 
And  called  a  Mayhew  to  religion* *s  aid. 

Dr.  Mayhew  is  still  remembered,  not  only  as  a  subtle  and; 
dextrous  controvertist,  but  as  a  gentleman  of  great  openness 
and  urbanity.  His  sermons  discover  a  mind  of  no  ordinary 
vigour  :  and  his  learning  was  such,  as  few  of  his  contempora- 
ries could  boast.  Dr.  Mayhew,  without  doubt,  did  much 
toward  awakening  that  spirit  of  frank  and  fearless  enquiry,  for 
which  the  clergy  of  the  metropolis  are  justly  celebrated.  That 
he  had  no  coadjutors  however  must  not  be  supposed.  Men, 
56 


442  NOTES  TO  THE 

of  a  Catholicism  not  less  ingenuous  than  his,  were  at  the  same 
time  busy  in  different  parts  of  New  England,  in  attempting  to 
redeem  the  people  of  their  respective  cures  from  a  bigotry, 
infinitely  more  mischievous,  than  the  Archiepiscopal  tyranny, 
as  they  called  it,  to  escape  which  their  ancestors  were  content  to 
leave  their  native  land,  and  wander,  they  knew  not  whither,  in 
search  of  religious  liberty.  To  this  cooperation  it  is  owing  that 
so  much  elegant  erudition  has  found  the  way  to  the  pulpit ;  and 
hence  too  it  is,  that  so  many  of  our  clergy  are  equally  eminent 
as  scholars,  and  exemplary  as  Christians. 

p.  76,1.7. 
Hail)  sacred  Liberty,  divinely  fair. 

When  this  poem  was  delivered  it  was  generally  thought 
that  the  French  Revolution  was  what  Mr.  Fox,  in  the  effer- 
vescence of  his  feelings,  emphatically  termed  it,  the  most  stu- 
pendous monument  ever  erected  by  man  to  Liberty. 

This  opinion  however,  from  being  embraced  by  all,  soon  be- 
came confined  to  a  few  ;  and  the  excesses  of  the  different  fac- 
tions, as  they  supplanted  one  another,  in  a  short  time  disen- 
chanted even  Mr.  Fox  of  his  fairy  visions,  and  convinced  him 
that  the  revolution  was  nothing  more  or  better  than  a  scramble 
among  the  people,  divided  into  parties,  having  adverse  views 
and  interests,  for  place  and  power.  Such  indeed,  as  knew  the 
tendency  of  all  civil  commotions,  did  not  wait  till  Louis  was 
uncrowned  or  beheaded.  Before  either  of  those  events  many 
saw  the  issue  of  the  struggle,  and  predicted,  that  this  fierce 
spirit  of  liberty  would  soon  foam  itself  mad,  and  be  cried  and 
hunted  down  by  some  aspirer  to  the  throne,  as  the  most  dan- 
gerous of  all  evils.  Such  has  been  the  result.  He,  who  now 
controls  France,  and  through  France,  almost  every  other  na- 
tion under  heaven,  has  vaulted  into  the  seat  of  the  Bourbons, 
over  the  yet  panting  remains  of  freedom ;  and  his  diadem, 
which  owes  all  its  lustre  to  the  light,  as  it  glitters  in  a  blasting 
reflection  from  his  invincible  sword,  is  sometimes  darkened  to 
a  fearful  dimness  by  the  steams  of  unexpiated  blood  ;  of  blood 
spilt  by  the  Usurper,  to  give  a  deeper  dye  and  a  livelier  gloss 
to  the  imperial  purple. 


COLLEGE  EXERCISES.  443 

p.  76, 1.21. 
Week  with  desfiair,  slow  tottering  with  toil. 

A  happier  instance  of  imitative  harmony  it  would  be  diffi- 
cult to  adduce.  The  preceding  couplet  teems  with  a  pair 
of  sturdy  Hybernicisms. 

p.  77, 1. 9. 

Long  may  the  laurel  to  the  ermine  yield. 

This  line  is  a  translation  of  Cicero's  celebrated  verse. 
Though  the  Roman  orator,  in  comparison  with  Virgil,  was  but 
a  sorry  poet,  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  his  translations,  par- 
ticularly some  passages  in  his  translation  of  Sophocles's 
Trachiniae,  so  far  as  he  translated  that  noble  tragedy,  are  at 
least  as  good,  as  any  of  Mr.  Fox's  verses. 

A  PASTORAL. 

Our  language,  though  poor  in  Pastorals,  can  boast  of  one, 
divided,  like  this,  into  Morning,  Noon  and  Evening,  which  has 
seldom  been  equalled.  Cunningham's  day  is  rich  in  rural 
scenery.  His  colours  are  of  the  tenderest  delicacy,  and  every 
object  is  touched  from  nature. 

p.  78, 1. 9. 

The  morn,  with  fiearly  feet  advancing,  leads 

Now  morn,  her  rosy  steps  in  th'  eastern  clime 
Advancing,  sowed  the  earth  with  orient  pearl.          Milton. 

p.  79.  1.  15.  sqq. 
JVow  the  Jier ce  coursers  of  the  sultry  day. 

In  this  and  the  five  following  lines  one  may  trace  Ovid, 
Claudian  and  the  Epitaphium  Damonis  as  well,  as  Virgil. 
How  suffocating  is  the  heat  described  in  these  verses, 

TJum  rapidus  torrens  sitientes  Sinus  Indos 
Ardebat ;  coelo  et  medium  sol  igneus  orbem 
Hauserat ;  arebant  herbx,  et  cava  flumina  siccis 
Faucibus  ad  limum  radii  tepefacta  coquebant. 


444  NOTES  TO  THE  COLLEGE  EXERCISES. 

p.  80,  1.  18. 
And  slow  in  solemn  brown  brings  on  the  even. 

From  Acldison.  The  first  lines  of  Cato  are  perhaps  the 
greatest  effort  of  his  muse.  Mr.  Paine  was  never  very 
careful  to  avoid  the  opening  of  vowels  on  each  other.  There 
is  none  of  his  poems,that  is  not  deformed  by  the  Hiatus. 

p.  81,  1.  11,  sqq. 
A  nightingale,  who,  from  a  neighbouring  sfiray. 

These  verses  contain  in  a  compressed  form  a  translation  of 
Strada's  nightingale. 

p.  86,  1.  27. 
Prom  his  keen  eyes  the  livid  lightnings  dart. 

The  sense  requires  the  substitution  of  vivid  for  livid.  The 
fire  of  that  mind,  which  fulmined  over  Greece,  was  far  from  a 
pale  and  sickly  flash.  Demosthenes,  as  he  took  Pericles  for 
his  model,  may  certainly  share  in  the  praises,  lavished  on  his 
great  exemplar.  Dr.  Parr  applies  the  verse,  to  which  I  allude, 
and  which  Milton  seems  to  have  done  little  more  than  amplify 
in  the  Paradise  Regained,  to  Mr.  Fox. 

p.  99,  1.  3. 

Philenia  sings,  and  sings  the  soldier's  toil. 
Mr.  Paine  alludes  to  Mrs.  Morton's  Beacon  Hill,  the  first 
canto  of  which,  was  then  lately  published.    It  is  to  be  regretted, 
that  the  poem,  if  finished,  is  still  kept  from  the  press. 

p.  100,  1.  17. 

When  that  warm  tongue,  from  which  such  musick flows. 

Instead  of  tongue,  Mr.  Paine,  it  is  said,  proposed  to  substi- 
tute lift.  The  substitution  certainly  betters  the  compliment ; 
but  I  know  not  whether  warm  liji  is  not  rather  too  luscious. 


NOTES 


TO    THE 


MISCELLANEOUS    POEMS. 


EDWIN    AND    EMMA. 

p.  115,  1.  5  sq. 

Ingenuous  JZdwin  !  whom  pale  Envy's  frown, 
For  thee  half -brightened  to  a  smile,  ajifilauds. 
This  figure,  though  it  may  not  answer  all  the  requisitions 

of  criticism,  conveys  the  author's  meaning  with  uncommon 

felicity. 

p.  116,  Isqq. 

Whatever  in  Love's  bright  landscape  charmed  your  -view, 
This  Stanza  is  not  less  delicate  than  elegant. 

p.  1 1 6,  1.  24. 
And  wish,  that  wedlock  was  no  sin  in  heaven, 

Matrimony  by  the  place  of  the  Scripture,  to  which  Mr. 
Paine  alludes,  is  not  declared  a  sin.  The  Saviour  does  not 
say,  that  marriage  in  heaven  would  be  unlawful ;  he  says 
merely  that,  to  the  blessed,  being  made  like  the  angels  of  God, 
marriage  is  unnecessary.  It  is  not  prohibited  by  penalties, 
as  an  offence ;  it  is  barely  described  as  superseded  by  a 
nobler  communion,  of  which  marriage  is  but  a  gross  and  im- 
perfect symbol.  The  preceding  stanza  is  finely  touched. 
The  evening  star  is  stayed,  while  Venus  smiles  on  the  nuptial 
rites,  and  by  her  smile  consecrates  the  genial  couch  to  a  large 
and  happy  issue.  If  this  epithalamium  commemorates  a  real 
wedding,  the  goddess  did  not  smile  in  vain. 


446  NOTES  TO  THE 

MONODY  ON  W.  H.  BROWN. 

Of  this  monody  there  is  something  like  concetto  in  the  two 
first  stanzas ;  but  it  is  soon  dropped,  or  rather  lost  in  the  poet's 
feelings  ;  for  the  piece  seems  to  have  flowed  almost  without 
premeditation  from  his  full  and  querulous  sorrow.  The  transi- 
tion, by  the  first  line  of  the  third  stanza,  is  full  of  pathos ;  of 
that  tenderness,  which  sobs  in  the  very  movement  of  the  mea- 
sure ;  the  three  other  lines  are  something  more  than  pretty. 

p.  119,1.  IT. 

Ithaca9 s  queen,  his  comick  jiencil  drew. 
This  line  is  extremely  awkward,  and  moves  as  Penelope 
would  have  hobbled  on  pattens ;  the  last  line  of  this  stanza, 
except  that  it  describes  the  demeanour  of  a  Pagan  princess  by  a 
custom,  peculiar  to  some  Christian  countries,  is  at  once  tender 
and  lofty. 

p.  120, 1.  17. 

Felt  ye  the  gale  ?  It  was  the  Sirock  blast. 
One  of  Mason's  choral  odes   suggested  this  abrupt  and 
startling  question. 

p.  121,1.26. 

To  hold  fiure  converse  with  the  babbling'  brook. 
So  in  the  verses  to  Brattle  : 

And  man  grew  social  with  the  babbling1  brook. 
Babbling  brook  is  from  Shakespeare. 

p.  122,  1.28. 

But  who  has  sketched  the  fragrance  of  the  rose  ? 
Mr.  Paine  remembered  the  Greek  epigram. 

p.  124, 

The  Stanzas  to  Mr.  Brattle,  though  somewhat  extravagant, 
are  very  pleasing.  The  last  quatrain,  particularly  the  second 
line,  is  imagined  in  the  true  spirit  of  encomiastick  poetry. 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  447 

p.  127,  1.  1  sqq. 

Thou  injured  maid,  to  gain  whose  secret  name. 
This,  and  the  three  next  lines  are  striking.  Arrected  ears,  is 
word  for  word  from  Virgil,  auribus  arrectis.  The  whispering 
gallery  of  fame,  though  savouring  somewhat  of  Cowley,  is  a 
happy  thought.  The  watch  tower  of  the  winds,  Mr.  Paine 
owes  to  his  recollection  of  the  Octagon  tower  of  Andronicus 
Cyrrhestes,  of  which  Vitruvius  takes  notice,  and  to  which 
Stuart  assigns  his  third  chapter  of  the  Antiquities  of  Athens. 
It  is  now  a  Turkish  chapel,  called  the  Teckeh.  The  channels 
in  the  pavement,  Stuart  supposes  to  be  the  remains  of  a 
water  dial.  His  margin  refers  us  to  Suidas,  Pausanias,  Aris- 
tophanes, Plutarch,  Hesychius  and  Pliny.  Stuart  confesses 
that  Vitruvius's  silence  is  unfavourable  to  his  conjecture ; 
but  then  Vitruvius,  he  observes,  is  silent  also  as  to  the  sun 
dials  about  the  building,  which  were  there,  in  his  time,  as  ap- 
pears from  Varro,  who  calls  the  tower,  the  Horologium  of 
Cyrrhestes.  Horologium,  he  adds,  signifies  not  only  a  sun 
dial  but  a  water  dial.  He  also  adds,  that  a  sun  dial  and  a 
water  dial,  were  placed  together  in  the  baths  of  Hippias,  which 
Lucian  has  described,  and  that  it  appears  probable  from  Pliny, 
that  both  those  species  of  dials  were  in  the  Roman  Forum. 

p.  127,  1.22. 

In  -voice  a  Circe,  and  in  poison  too. 

This  line  Mr.  Paine  afterwards  employed  in  the  Invention 
©f  Letters. 

SONNET  TO  PHILENIA,  &C. 

This  sonnet,  notwithstanding  the  uncouth  union  of  mercanv- 
tile  phraseology  with  gallantry  and  rhyme,  is  marked  by  some 
fine  strains.  The  twelfth  and  thirteenth  lines  are  eminently 
beautiful.  From  the  sincere  admiration  entertained  by  Mr. 
Paine  for  the  lady,  to  whom  some  of  his  best  verses  are  ad- 
dressed, he  seldom  failed  to  derive  inspiration. 

p.  140,  1.20. 

When  prudish  Sanctity  congeals  the  soul. 
This  verse  I  suspect  is  far  from  being  universally  true. 
Eloisas  are  still  found  in  convents. 


448  NOTES  TO  THE 

p.  141,  1.  8. 

And  fondly  ivoos  the  rainboiv-mantled  Dame. 
Milton  in  his  Christmas  Hymn  xv.  says 

Truth  and  justice  then 

Will  down  return  to  men, 

Orb'd  in  a  rainbow,  and  like  glories  wearing 

Mercy  will  sit  between,  &c. 

Such  is  the  reading  of  the  edition  of  1 673  ;  in  the  edition  of 
1645  it  stood  thus 

Th*  enamell'd  arras  of  the  rainbow  wearing. 

p.  142,  1,8. 

Where'er  she  -visits,  Sfiring  Jlorescent  reigns, 
florescent  bears  Mr.  Paine's  die  :  it  does  not  want  analogy. 

p.  42,  1.  10. 
She  moves — the  Goddess  by  her  gait  is  known. 

vera  incessu  patuit  Dea.     Virgil  1,  JEn.  405. 

Vera  Dea  is  a  phrase,  worthy  of  notice  ;  instead  of  strength- 
ening, it  weakens  the  impression. 

p.  143,1.  12. 
Would  trust  so  base  an  afifilicant  a  stiver. 

Applicant  is  an  arrant  Americanism.  Mr.  Paine  was  not  even 
scrupulous,  although  an  author,  who  writes  with  the  hope  of 
outliving  his  tomb,  should  be  fastidious  in  the  choice  of  his 
words.  He  should  never  forget  the  only  maxim,  which  has 
come  down  to  us,  of  Caesar's  book  on  Analogy. 

p.  143,  1.23. 
And  drag  the  limping  legs  of  Bhyme^  slow,  lin-ge-ring  out, 

The  whole  stanza  is  well  turned  ;  but  this  line  is  remarkably- 
apt  ;  the  alliteration  helps  to  impede  its  motion.  With  too 
much  bitterness  there  is  blended  in  this  piece  no  inconsiderable 
portion  of  legitimate  satire. 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  449 

p.  145,  1.  1. 
Though  all  my  "puffs"  not  one  recruiter  drew. 

Recruiter^  if  it  were  an  English  word,  would  not  mean  a 
n-eiv  soldier,  but  the  recruiting  officer.  It  is  painful  to  find  so 
many,  (I  have  noted  but  few)  unauthorized  words  in  the  works 
of  a  man,  whose  reading,  though  desultory  and  capricious, 
was  certainly  various  and  extensive.  But  this  various  and 
extensive  reading  vitiated  his  style.  Except  Shakespeare  and 
Dry  den,  there  was  scarcely  an  English  poet,' whom  Mr.  Paine 
cared  to  own.  Of  Milton  he  was  not  indeed  shamelessly  ignor- 
ant ;  but  his  acquaintance  with  the  Paradise  Lost  was  by 
no  means  such,  as  one  might  have  expected.  With  Pope's 
splendour  and  sweetness  he  was  without  doubt  deeply 
impressed,  but  he  seldom  imitates  his  delicious  melody  or  the 
calm  and  equable  current  of  sound  sense,  which  flows  through 
every  page  of  that  fine  poet  and  moralist. 

Mr.  Paine  was  eager  for  American  publications ;  and  some 
times,  I  fear,  suffered  even  Dryden  and  Shakespeare  to  be 
jostled  out  of  his  mind  by  the  strenuous  and  well-compacted 
dulness  of  a  certain  diplornatick  poet ;  the  name  of  whose 
burly  quarto  is  now  not  unaptly  given  to  the  heaviest  and 
most  unwieldy  species  of  ordnance. 

p.  147, 1.  5.  sqq. 
Two  rival  Zefihyrs,  knights  of  air. 

The  Rosicrucian  system,  as  developed  by  Pope,  in  the  fairest. 
issue  of  his  fancy,  probably  gave  the  author  this  idea. 

PRIZE   PROLOGUE. 

Having  during  his  last  years  subjected  this  poem  to  a  severe 
revision,  it  will  be  found  that  Mr.  Paine,  besides  enlarging  it, 
has  bestowed  on  the  Prize  Prologue,  as  here  printed,  more 
than  his  usual  care.  None  indeed  of  his  productions  appears 
to  have  shared  so  largely  in  his  affection  ;  and  his  manuscripts 
shew  that  every  verse,  of  the  additions  at  least,  was  the  fruit 
of  the  most  patient  and  laborious  diligence.  A  few  of  the 
various  readings  I  shall  be  excused  for  exhibiting. 
.57 


450  NOTES  TO  THE 

p.  152,  1.  25,  26. 

,/Vbw,  Time's  grey  eve,  serene  with  lingering  day. 
Sheds  o'er  thy  wrecks  his  sad,  sepulchral  ray. 

After  this  couplet,  which,  though  a  little  incongruous,  is 
exact  enough  to  awaken  a  still  and  sacred  melancholy,  such 
as  the  view  of  modern  Athens  cannot  but  excite  in  every  polite 
scholar,  Mr.  Paine  had  inserted  this  distich ; 

With  light's  last  tinge  religion's  shadows  fly 
And  lorn  thy  Genius  roams  the  flickering  sky. 

Dr.  Johnson's  remarks  on  the  tragedy  of  Macbeth,  furnished 
the  hint  of  the  first  line.  Flickering  can  hardly  be  wrested  to 
the  use,  here  made  of  it. 

p.  152,1.28. 
Choaked  with  thy  gods,  thy  -vexed  Pyr&m  roars. 

The  Piraeus  (for  so  it  should  have  been  spelt)  was  the  har- 
bour of  Athens.  Mr.  Paine  is  indebted  to  Pope  ; 

Streets  pav'd  with  statues,  Tyber  choak'd  with  gods. 

As  applied  to  a  river,  the  metaphor  is  happy  :  it  does  not 
however  accomodate  itself  with  equal  felicity  to  a  Basin. 
Pope  remembered  Virgil. 

gemerent  que  repleti 

Amnes,  nee  reperire  viam  atque  evolvere  posset 
In  mare  se  Zanthus. 

p.  153,1.4. 

And  hermit  Silence  worships  there  alone. 
This  line,  as  first  written,  stood  thus, 

And  brooding  silence  worships  there  alone. 

Brooding  was  succeeded  by  barbarous  ;  barbarous  gave  way 
to  fiious,  and  pious  at  last  resigned  its  place  to  hermit. 

Hermit  silence  reminds  one  of  Collins,  and  savours  of  his 
best  manner.  It  may  here  be  remarked  that  the  epistle  to 
SirThomasHanmer,on  his  edition  of  Shakespeare,  was  familiar 
to  Mr.  Paine,  and  he  has  not  hesitated  to  avail  himself  of  those 
charming  verses. 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  451 

The  whole  passage,  of  which  the  line  at  the  head  of  this  note 
makes  a  part,  is  highly  poetical.  It  is  hardly  possible  to  read 
it,  without  feeling  that  sort  of  delight,  which  is  the  more  rav- 
ishing, for  being  mingled  and  chastised  by  a  mild  and  pensive 
melancholy. 

p.  153,  1.14. 

Sits  black  Desfiair,  while  fiagan  Wonder  reigns, 
With  this  line  Mr.  Paine  could  not  easily  satisfy  himself. 
I  find  it  in  these  different  forms.     It  first  stood  thus : 

Dumb  Wonder  sits  and  blank  Oblivion  reigns. 
It  was  then  altered  to 

Dumb  Ruin  sits  and  pagan  Wonder  reigns, 
then  to 

Dumb  Slumber  sits  and  pagan  Wonder  reigns, 
then  to 

In  brooding  Silence  pagan  Wonder  reigns. 
then  to 

Mute  Ruin  sits  and  barbarous  Wonder  reigns. 
then  the  couplet  was  new  modelled  thus : 

O'er  tby  proud  cenotaphs  and  gorgeous  domes, 

Dumb  Ruin  sits  and  pagan  Wonder  roams. 

at  last,  however,  the  second  line  took  its  present  form. 

p.153,  1.27. 

Could  gently  touch  the  film,  that  made  thee  blind. 
Pope's  Sacred  Pastoral  was  in  Mr.  Paine's  mind.  After 
making  all  due  allowances  for  the  fervour  of  a  youthful  fancy, 
this  line,  I  fear,  is  indefensible.  Mr.  Paine  cannot  shelter 
himself  behind  the  authority  of  Dryden.  That  great  poet,  as 
he  struggled  into  notice  during  the  Usurpation,  was  obliged 
to  worry  himself  forward  by  canting,  (such  was  the  folly  of 
the  day,)  in  a  strain,  sometimes  little  short  of  open  blasphemy, 
and  always  bordering  on  careless  irreverence.  Pope,  for  the 
like  offence,  has  not  escaped  without  reproof.  Dr.  Johnson 
dismisses  the  critick,  and  becomes  a  moral  censor,  when  be 
says,  "  that  it  is  a  mode  of  merriment,  which  a  good  man 
dreads  for  its  profaneness,  and  a  witty  man  disdains  for  its 
easiness  and  vulgarity." 


452  NOTES  TO  THE 

p.154,  1.21. 

In  -vain  thy  Efiick  heroes  wake  with  rage. 

The  antitheses,  if  they  may  be  so  called,  of  which  this  par- 
agraph consists,  are  awkwardly  managed. 

p.155, 1.  7. 
Dear  wild  of  Genius  I  o'er  thy  mouldering  scene. 

This  line  was  first  written 

Wild  tvaste  of  Genius,  o'er  thy  mouldering  scene. 

It  is  hardly  to  be  pardoned,  that  Mr.  Paine  did  not,  before 
he  past  to  Rome,  attempt  an  analysis  of  the  respective  charac- 
ters of  the  tragick  triumvirate  of  Athens,  and  the  authors  of 
the  old  and  new  comedy.  Brumoy  might  easily  have  supplied 
the  materials.  The  dramatick  poets  of  Rome  ought  not  to  have 
been  forgotten.  France  too,  as  well  as  England,  has  contrib- 
uted some  fine  pieces  to  the  stage  ;  but  although  it  is  known 
that  he  intended  to  introduce  the  English  dramatists,  Mr. 
Paine  seems  never  to  have  suspected  that  his  prologue,  instead 
of  being  more,  would  be  less  complete,  if  admitting  Shakes- 
peare, and  Johnson,  and  Dryden,  he  neglected  Cornielle, 
and  Racine,  and  Moliere,and  Terence,  and  PIautus,and  Seneca, 
and  Euripedes,  and  Sophocles,  and  ^Eschylus,  together  with 
Aristophanes,  and  Menander,  and  other  comick  poets,  who  are 
known  to  us  only  by  their  imitators, 

p.151, 1. 11.  sq. 

Augustan  Rome,  with  sad,  firofihetick  eye, 
Beheld  her  empire  circle  round  the  sky. 

Thus  written  in  one  of  the  M.  S.  S. ; 

Rome  o'er  the  globe  beheld  her  pennons  fly, 
Yet  saw  her  realm  expand  with  trembling  eye. 

The  last  line  is  altered,  having  stood  thus : 

Yet  saw  her  empire  spread  with  trembling  eye. 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  453 

p.156,  1.9. 

The  Globe's  proud  butcher  grew  humanely  brave. 
It  cannot  be  questioned  that,  while  Mr.  Paine  was  writing 
this  line,  one  of  Pope's  verses  in  the  prologue  to  Cato,  was 
humming  in  his  ears : 

The  World's  great  victor  past  unheeded  by. 

p.  156,  1.25.  sqq. 
Thus  set  the  sun  of  intellectual  light. 

It  is  difficult  to  say,  which  has  contributed  more  to  this 
description,  Ovid  or  Moses.  After  the  last  line  of  this  para- 
graph, one  copy  contains  these  lines : 

But  still  reluctant  sunk  the  Torrent's  rage, 
The  alluvion  chilled,  and  darkness  veiled  the  age ; 
No  genial  beam  could  penetrate  the  cloud, 
"Which  mantled  Science  in  a  solemn  shroud  ; 
While  bigot  Folly,  weak,  morose,  and  blind, 
Stalked  through  the  vapour  and  dismayed  the  mind ; 
The  shapeless  monster  struck  fantastick  awe, 
For  darkness  magnified  what  Terrour  saw; 

Bacon  alone 

Flashed  and  went  out,  and  all  was  dark  again. 

p.157,1.15. 

But)  hark  !  her  mighty  rival  sweeps  the  strings  ; 
Sweet  A-von^  flow  not  !  'tis  thy  Shakesjiearc  sings  / 
One  copy  presents  this  distich  in  another  shape : 

Roused  from  their  trance  the  slumbering  muses  start, 

And  see  !  the  sullen  shades  in  thunders  part! 

Hijrk  from  the  clouds  some  Ariel  sweeps  the  strings! 

Sweet  Avon,  flow  not,  'tis  thy  Shakespeare  sings. 

p.157,  1.28. 

When  Garrick  sighed  the  Muse  his  last  adieu. 
Davies,  in  his  life  of  that  unrivalled  actor,  speaks  of  Gar- 
rick,  taking  his  leave  of  the  stage,  and  tells  us  of  the  effect 
produced  by  that  ceremony  on  the  house.  Mr.  Paine  was 
certainly  fond  of  a  Book,  to  which  Johnson  is  thought  to  have 
given  the  finishing  hand. 


454  NOTES  TO  THE 

p.157,  1.30. 

When  Siddons  looks  a  nation  into  tears. 
Never  was  that  mistress  of  mimetick  passion  honoured  by 
a  nobler  compliment.     The  correspondent  line  is  altogether 
unworthy  of  the  subject.     Collins  in  liis  ode  to  Mercy,  makes 
these  lines  a  part  of  the  antistrophe : 

Thy  form,  from  out  thy  sweet  abode, 
O'ertook  him  on  his  blasted  road, 
And  stopped  his  wheels  and  looked  his  rage  away. 
I  see  recoil  his  sable  steeds, 
That  bore  him  swift  to  savage  deeds ; 
Thy  tender-melting  eyes  they  own 

Collins,  I  have  little  doubt,  was  thinking,  when  he  wrote  these 

lines,  of  Claudian's  simile  in  his  Magnes  : 

Sic  Venus  horrificum  belli  compescere  Regem 
Et  vultu  mollire  solet ;  cum  sanguine  prxceps 
JEstuat,  et  strictis  mucronibus  asperat  iras. 
Sola  feris  occurrit  equis,  solvitque  tumorem 
Pectoris,  et  blando  prsecordia  temperat  igni. 
Pax  animo  tranquilla  datur ;  pugnasque  calentes 
Deserit,  et  rutilas  declinat  in  oscula  cristas. 

p.158,  1.12. 

Peace  rolls  luxurious  in  her  dove -drawn  car. 
Collins,  as  he  furnishes  War  with  vultures,  represents  Peace 
as  drawn  by  turtles.     Sparrows,   according  to  Sappho,  and 
swans,  if  we  may  believe  Horace,  are  joined  to  the  car  of 
Venus. 

p.158, 1.22. 

An  angel  wanders  in  a  fiilgrim's  guise. 
Here  is  another  allusion  to  the  Scripture  ;  considering  the 
purpose,  to  which  it  is  made  subservient,  it  can  hardly  be 
excused. 

p.  160, 1.  3. 

A  Terence  rise,  in  chariest  charms  serene. 
Chary  is  a  word  so  rarely  used,  that  it  requires  explanation* 
I.t  means,  as  explained   by   Johnson,   careful)  cautious,  &c\ 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  455 

Beside  Carew,  whose  authority  is  of  little  weight,  the  Diction- 
ary contains  a  quotation  from  Shakespeare  : 

" the  chariest  maid  is  prodigal  enough 

If  she  unmask  her  beauty  to  the  moon." 

p.  164,1.3. 

With  rising"  sun,  the  swain  his  course  renewed. 
The  article  might  have  found  its  place  in  this  line,  if,  instead 
of  rising,  Mr.  Paine  had  written  new  ;    With  the  new  sun.  To 
this  alteration  the  last  word  of  the  line  is  far  from  being   an 
objection. 

p.  164, 1.26. 

Who  "value  lore>  as  antiquaries  rust. 
Altered  from  the  first  edition,  which  stood  thus, 

Who  value  science  only  for  its  rust. 

Popes  verses  to  Addison,  occasioned  by  his  delightful  dialogue 
on  medals,  begot  this  line.  Pope  speaks  of  certain  antiquita- 
riansj  (such  persons  are  so  called  by  a  great  master  of  English 
eloquence,  to  distinguish  them  from  antiquaries,  whose  pur- 
suits are  by  no  means  such,  as  to  warrant  any  other  language 
than  that  of  sincere  respect,)  who  cared  little  for  the  inscrip- 
tion, if  it  were  to  be  recovered  by  disturbing  the  precious 
<erugo.  They,  he  says, 

Th*  inscription  value,  but  the  rust  adore. 

p.  165,  1.  5. 
The  barbarous  Rhine  now  blends  Us  classick  name. 

In  the  first  edition  the  four  following  lines  concluded  this 
paragraph. 

In  morn  of  modern  days,  a  brighter  name, 

The  world's  great  genius  has  eclipsed  your  fame  ! 

Sovereign  of  art,  inventions  noblest  son, 

He  claims  the  bays,  which  every  Art  has  won. 

p.  165,  1.  15.  sqq. 

Egyptian  shrubs,  in  hands  of  cook  or  priest. 
These  four  lines  are  debased  by  an  attempt  at  unseasonable 
wit. 


456  JC&TE  TO  THE 

p.  165,  1.  19.sqq. 

The  ancient  scribe,  employed  by  bards  divine. 
Alliteration  is  seldom  more  adroitly  managed,  than  in  the 
three  succeeding  lines. 

p.  165,  1.28. 

The  pinioned  -volume  spreads  to  all  mankind. 
Pinioned  is  an  equivoque.    Winged  had  been  better.  Milton, 
it  is  remarkable,  uses  'winged  as  two  syllables  and  as  one  in 
the  same  line.     Perhaps  Mr.  Paine  was  thinking  of  Homer's 


p.  166,  1.  12. 

The  world  who  butchered,  or  the  world  who  taught. 
Of  this  construction  young  poets  are  ready  to  avail  them- 
selves ;  it  may  be  doubted  whether  it  conforms  to  any  English 
idiom. 

p.  166,  1.  14. 

To  burst  the  cearments  of  each  buried  age. 

From  Hamlet's  address  to  his  father's  ghost.  The  figure  is 
supported  in  the  following  lines  with  great  spirit.  The  sun- 
less and  trophied  sepulchre  of  time  is  an  awful  image. 

p.  167,  1.14. 

Ere  fettered  Type  from  dread  Bastile  was  led. 
This  personification,  to  say  nothing  of  it,  as  suggesting  at 
once  the  idea  of  some  swart  and  shrivelled  pressman,  just 
escaped  from  the  jail  to  which  his  libellous  paper  had  sent 
him,  is  extremely  hard.  It  had  been  less  objectionable,  if  the 
prosody  would  have  admitted  the  article,  which,  although  its 
omission  in  easy  and  doggerel  verse,  is  always  indulged  and 
sometimes  demanded,  can  never  be  spared  from  the  higher 
forms  of  English  harmony. 

p.  167,  1.23. 

In  vain  di  Gama  traced  the  orient  way. 
This,  and  the  five  succeeding  lines,  are  added  since  the  firs* 
edition.  ' 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  457 

168,1.20. 
Green  be  the  tombs  where  sleep,  her  patriot  hosts. 

Altered  from  the  first  edition,  where  it  has  this  form : 
Long  bloom  the  meed  of  her  enlightened  hosts. 

p.169,1.1. 

What  though  no  wave  Pactolian  laves  her  shore. 
Here  is  Sir  John  Denham's  Thames  again.     After  the  next 
line,  the  first  edition  closes  this  paragraph  with, 

Yet  she  has  mines,  which  need  no  rod  to  trace  ; 
Search  not  her  bosom,  but  survey  her  face. 

These  lines  are  not  lost,  however ;    they  are  wrought  into 
the  new  verses,  which  follow.. 

p.  170, 1.12. 

And  kills  the  oak,  whose  leaf  it  could  not  start. 
So  in  his  Ode  for  4th  July,  1806  : 

For  oft  a  worm  destroys  an  oak, 
Whose  leaf  that  worm  would  bury. 
And  again,  in  his  Ode  for  the  same  festival,  1811: 
Base  submission  inviting  indignity  and  plunder, 
Like  a  worm,  kills  an  oak,  which  should  have  braved  the  thunder. 

p.  170,  1.  24. 

The  sun^  that  warms  a  monkey ^  breeds  ajly. 
From  Pope : 

The  fur,  that  warms  a  monarch,  warmed  a  bear, 

p.173,  1.12. 

And  the  -vast  alcove  of  Creation  blaze. 
The  conclusion  of  Campbell's  Pleasures  of  Hope  somewhat 
resembles  the  closing  lines  of  this  poem.     Milton's  Natura 
non  fiati  senium  winds  off  with  these  lines  : 

• Sic  denique  in  sevum 

Ibit  cunctarum  series  justissima  rerum  ; 
Donee  flamma  orbem  populabiuir  ultima,  late 
Circumplexa  polos,  et  vasti  culmina  czeii ; 
Ingentique  rogo  flagrabit  machina  mundi- 

It  is  not  among  the  weakest  proofs  of  his  greatness,  that  the 
meretricious  rhetorick,  which  has  so  often  wreathed  itself  about 
58 


458  NOTES  TO  THE 

his  fame,  and  fondled  on  his  memory  with  a  drivelling  tender- 
ness, has  never  brought  into  suspicion  the  virtues  or  talents 
of  General  Washington.  Notwithstanding  the  stale  and  vapid 
libations,  which  are  yearly  poured  out  at  his  tomb,  his  shield 
is  still  bright  and  unsullied ;  the  vapours  sent  up  by  those 
thankless  sacrifices  dare  not  settle  on  its  orb. 

p.  177,  1.8.  sq. 

Which  guides  a  comet,  while  it  moulds  a.  tear. 
Jlere  is  another  imitation  of  Rogers's  fine  verses. 

p.  178,  1.16. 

A  motley  Pantheon  of  birds  and  beaste* 
A  tame  and  slovenly  line. 

p.179,  1.10. 

Cobivebbed  around  ivith  many  a  mouldy  lie, 
Into  this  verse  are  compressed  four  lines  of  the  Invention 
of  Letters : 

In  yon  drear  garret,  Faction's  dark  recess, 
Her  nightly  daemons  load  the  groaning  press. 
With  cobwebs  hung,  she  rubs  her  sleepless  eyes, 
While  Norfolk  spiders  weave  her  half  spun  lies. 

p.179,  1.15. 

All  join  to  shift  Life's  ~ver si-coloured  scenes. 
Johnson's  many-coloured,  in  his  Drury-lane  prologue,  had 
been  much  better  than  -ver si-coloured,  which  is  not  analogically 
compounded. 

p.179,  1.26. 

To  ivield  a  snuff-box,  er  enact  a  sigh. 
There  is  much  point  in  the  phrase  to  enact  a  sigk. 

p.180,  1.2. 

Grave,  without  sense  ;  o'er/lowing,  yet  not  full. 
Sir  John  Denham  once  more. 

p.  180,  1.4. 

Wrinkled  in  Latin,  and  in  Greek  fourscore. 
This  line  exemplifies  one  of  the  nicest  idioms  of  the  English 
language.    It  gives  us  Horace's  insenuit  libris  et  curis  in  a  very 
terse,  though  somewhat  liberal,  version. 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  459 

p.  82,1.  18. 

Let  Fiction's  brokers,  bards  and  tomb stone '*,  tell. 
There  is  something  very  quaint  in  the  coupling  of  tomb- 
stones and  bards,  and  making  them  the  brokers  of  fiction. 

p.  182,  1.26. 

The  knee  adoring,  and  the  stolen  kiss. 

Stolen,  in  verse  should  never  loiter  into  two  syllables.  There 
is  great  spirit  in  this  description  of  a  belle  of  Plato's  age. 
Nor  did  Mr.  Paine's  fervour  forsake  him,  while  describing  the 
miser. 

p.  184,  1.28. 

Ar~ve  gently  murmurs,  and  the  rough  Rhone  roars. 
Here  is  another  good  specimen  of  the  sound  echoing  to 
the  sense,  especially  in  the  last  member  of  the  sentence,  the 
three  last  words  of  which  begin  with  an  asperated  liquid, 
which  is  followed  by  the  fullest  of  the  vowels. 

p.  186,  1.  14. 

Sees  all  her  frost-work  castles  melt  away. 
Mr.  Paine  alludes  to  the  Ice  palace  of  the  Russian  empress, 
which  affords,  after  a  charming  description,  so  melancholy  a 
reflection  to  the  pensive  Cowper. 

p.  187,  1.4. 

The  sun  of  Glory  shines  but  on  the  tomb. 
Pope,  in  his  imitation  of  the  epistle  to  Augustus,  says, 

Those  suns  of  Glory  please  not  till  they  set. 
Gray,  in  his  Elegy  in  the  country  church-yard,  says 

The  paths  of  Glory  lead  but  to  the  tomb. 

From  Gray  and  Pope,  by  nearly  equal  contributions,  Mr. 
Paine  levied  this  verse.  Gray's  is  the  last  line  of  a  stanza, 
which  Proffessor  Cooke,  late  of  Cambridge,  according  to  an 
anonymous  author  of  great  celebrity,  has  rendered  with  won- 
derful felicity  into  Greek  verses. 

p.  187,  1.  10. 

The  Hyblean  melody  of  Merry's  taste. 

Of  Hyblean  the  accent  belongs  to  the  penult ;  but  I  do  not, 
detach  this  verse  merely  to  correct  the  false  quantity. 


460  NOTES  TO  THE 

Delia  Cruscan  melody  is  of  a  mawkish  sweetness ;  and  in 
pomp  and  splendour  Merry  is  much  below  Darwin,  who,  while 
he  makes  her  more  magnificent,  gives  to  the  muse  of  Merry 
a  loftier  air,  and  a  voice  of  wider  and  more  flexible  compass. 
I  know  not  whether  Miss  Seward,  however,  did  not  confer 
more  on  Darwin,  than  he  took  from  Merry. 

p.  189,1.  1. 

Stern  fiower  of  justice,  whose  uplifted  hand. 
This  and  the  four  following  lines  are  nobly  imagined.    The 

four  last  lines  are  not  unworthy  of  Dry  den. 

r 

p.  189,1.  17. 

With  prisoned  force  insurging  Neptune's  reign. 
Insurge  is  not  English.     Insurgent  is  hardly  naturalized. 

p.190,1.  29.  sq, 

Thy  realm,  maturing  'mid  the  feathery  flight. 
Of  ages-)  trackless  as  the  plumes  of  light. 
A  noble  couplet.  I  doubt  whether  the  volume  contains  two 
lines  of  equal  excellence. 

p.  200,1.8. 

O'er  criticks'  noses,  snoring  in  the  pit. 
From  Shakespeare's  description  of  the  Fairy's  Mid-wife. 

p.  203,  1.  l.sq. 

When  cracked,  like  Rupert's  drop,  it  mocks  controul. 
Butler,  I    suspect,  first  employed  this  simile.     It  occurs 
somewhere  in  Hudibras. 

201,1.1. 

Crumped  Vulcan  deigned  his  Cyclop  den  to  quit. 
The  word,  intended  to  be  used,  is  an  adjective  crump,  and 
not  crumped  with  a  participial  termination. 

p.  202, 1.12. 

And  nail  him  to  the  pillory  of  Fame. 

In  the  heat  and  hurry  of  composition,  incongruities  of  such 
a  kind  as  this  line  displays,  will  slip  from  the  most  accurate 
.pen. 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  461 

p.  203,  1.  8. 
Who  grin  like  monkey s9  or  like  fygers  Jight. 

Such  is  the  character  of  Frenchmen,  as  drawn  more  than 
half  a  century  ago,  by  the  Arch  Theomachist.  Mr.  Paine  in 
his  oration  before  the  young  men  of  Boston,  does  not  forget 
Voltaire's  description  of  his  countrymen. 

p.  203,  1.  22. 

And  smoothed  Delilah9 s  lap  for  Sampson's  head. 
Delilah,  according  to  Milton,  who  was  no  unskilful  Hebraist, 
has  the  accent  on  the  antepenult. 

p.  204, 1.  4. 
And  snatched  the  -victim  from  the  apostate  priest. 

Although  the  ceremonies,  common  to  the  whole  heathen 
world,  are  strangely  confounded  with  the  sacrificial  rites 
peculiar  to  the  Jews,  this  imagery  is  magnificent ;  it  may,  for 
aught  I  know,  be  more  magnificent  from  the  confusion, 
as  it  brings  to  the  reader's  recollection,  perhaps,  the  finest 
scene  of  the  Athenian  stage.  It  is  difficult  to  read  the  pas- 
sage, or  even  to  recal  it  from  the  shadows  that  sport  in  the 
twilight  of  a  faint  and  glimmering  memory,  without  such 
tears  as  spring  from  admiration  of  the  poet,  blended  with 
sympathy  for  his  heroine.  The  lines  are  deep  and  fresh  in. 
the  mind  of  every  polite  scholar.  I  shall  not,  therefore,  trans* 
cribe  any  part  of  that  scene,  which  for  nature  and  passsion, 
even  Shakespeare  can  hardly  equal.  Let  it  not  be  said, 
that  I  wantonly  disparage  that  illustrious  dramatist.  I  doubt 
whether  his  devoutest  admirer,  could  approach  the  Avon  with 
a  worthier  homage,  than  he  presents,  who  ventures  to  doubt 
wh.ther,  in  truth  and  pathos,  Euripides  be  superiour  to 
Shakespeare. 

p.  204,  1.  18. 
Pubs  garlick  in  her  eyes,  and  goes  to  church. 

Every  line,  except  the  fourth,  of  this  paragraph  is  vigorous 
and  piquant.     Dry  den  is  evidently  imitated. 


462  tfOTES  TO  THE 

p.  206,  1.  15. 

While  fears  of  rapture  glitter  on  its  leaves. 
A  fine  thought,  expressed  with  feeling  and  elegance. 

p.  207,  1.  12. 

Nor  rules  by  -verse  the  prosody  of  woe. 
Tickel's  verses  on  Addison's  death  suggested  this  line. 

p.  207,1.  16. 

He  speaks  from  nature^  and  he  looks  from  soul. 
Soul  and  mind,  and  other  words  of  similar  import,  Mr.  Paine 
was  always  fond  of  employing  in  some  dark  andabstract  sense. 
The  habit  grew  upon  him,  as  he  advanced  in  life. 

EPILOGUE  TO  THE  SOLDIER*S  DAUGHTER. 

Few  of  Mr.  Paine's  effusion's  are  more  easy  and  joyous, 
than  the  Epilogue  to  the  Soldier's  Daughter.      One  of  its 
couplets,  except  that  a  monosyllable  in  time    is  drawn  out  to 
a  lazy  dissyllable,  is  unusually  felicitous.    I  allude  to  these  lines, 
Those  eyes,  that  even  freemen  could  enslave, 
Will  light  a  race  of  vassals,  to  their  grave. 

p.  215,  1.8. 

A  tooth-pick  Epilogue  should  lounge  the  city. 
What  is  meant  by  a  tooth-pick  Epilogue  it  is  hard  to  say. 

p.  214,  1.24. 

And  e-very  foundling  don  mot  knows  papa. 
This  is  a  pretty  thought,  prettily  conveyed. 

p.215,1.  IS.sqq. 

"  The  love-sick  cook-maid  lisps—hist,  Romeo,  hist" 
Few  poets  can  furnish  finer  lines  than  this  paragraph  con- 
tains. One  of  the  lines,  I  am  sory  to  find,  weakened  and  dis- 
figured by  an  expletive,  which  for  more  than  a  century  has  not 
dared  to  intrude  itself  into  the  heroick  measure.  The  next 
paragraph  is  delicate  ;  particularly  the  four  last  lines,  which 
have  all  the  tenderness  and  simplicity  of  the  dorick  pastoral. 

p.  220,1.  25. 

To  pine  a  deatJi-ivatch  in  a  miser's  chest. 
Perhaps  it  would  not  be  possible  to  inflict  by  poetry  a  heav- 
ier or  more  appropriate  punishment,  than  to  condemn  the 
miser  to  do  penance  as  a  death-watch  in  his  own  empty  coffers. 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS.  463 

p.221,1.23.sq. 
Candid  to  censure,  generous  to  commend. 

In  these  two  lines  Mr.  Paine  seems  to  have  taken  no  pains 
to  disguise  the  thought,  or  the  phrase,  or  the  rythm  of  Pope. 

EPILOGUE  TO  THE  POOR  LODGER. 

The  Epilogue  to  the  Poor  Lodger,  which  as  well,  as  the 
Clergyman's  Daughter,  is  one  of  our  native  plays,  was  spoken 
by  Mrs.  Darley,who  speaks  in  the  ten  first  lines,  as  from  herself, 
to  the  audience.  The  gratitude  of  that  interesting  actress 
cannot  be  more  sincere,  than  the  pleasure,  which  her  perform- 
ance always  excites. 

p.  230,1.4. 
That  gallant  form^  which  breathed  a  nation's  mind. 

Such  abstraction,  as  this  line  exemplifies,  does  not  easily  ally 
itself  with  poetry. 

p.  230, 1.  6. 
But  Victory  writes  his  epitaph  in  tears. 

Though  it  wants  distinctness  and  consistency,  this  thought  is 
boldly  personified. 

p.  231,1.3. 
And  o'er  its  cliffs  to  bid  the  banner  wave. 

David's  picture  of  Buonaparte  crossing  the  Alps  might 
have  occasioned  this  line. 

p.  231,1.  8. 
Where  war  had  left  no  stone  without  a  name. 

This  line  is  an  almost  literal  version  of  a  line  of  the  Phars* 
salia. 

p.  234,  1.14. 

Couched  ambush  listened  in  the  deefi  morose. 
The  lurking  place  is  not  less  luckily  imagined,  than  the 
personification  and  posture  of  Ambush. 


464  NOTES  TO  THE 

p.  233,  1.  5. 

O'er  hill)  or  -vale,  where'er  the  sky  descends. 
This  paragraph,  and  the  three  succeeding  paragraphs,  are 
expanded  and  brightened  to  a   pomp  and  splendour,  which 
rarely  discover  themselves  in  other  parts  of  the  poem. 

p.  235,  1.7. 
There )  sacring  mourner,  see  Britannia  sjireads. 

Sir  William  Temple  and  Shakespeare  are  cited  by  Johnson 
under  sacring.  The  one  seems  to  use  it  as  a  participle,  the 
other  as  a  substantive.  It  is  found  in  one  of  the  four  dialogues 
on  the  Pursuit  of  Literature.  I  fear  that  Mr.  Paine  has  not 
given  to  it  its  proper  import. 

p.  235, 1.  15. 
Sweet  sleefi  Thee,  Brave  !  In  solemn  chaunt,  sfiall  sound. 

Here  is  a  wild  and  wanton  anomaly,  which  no  rule  of  gram- 
mar or  syntax  can  reconcile  to  any  idiom,  or  any  licence  ol 
the  language. 

p.  235,  1.  24. 
It  dies  in  distance,  while  its  echo  Jloats. 

Into  this  paragraph  Mr.  Paine  has  breathed  much  of  the 
charming  fancy,  and  somewhat  of  the  melting  pathos  of  Collins ; 
as  with  the  preceding  paragraph,  he  has  blended  not  a  little  oi 
the  fire  and  freedom  of  Dryden. 

p.  236,  1.  4. 
Shall  seek  thy  tomb,  to  read  the  tale  it  bears. 

Of  these  four  lines,  the  two  first  are  well  finished.  Collins 
may  be  traced  in  the  two  last. 

p.  236,  1.10. 
His  country  all  he  loved,  and  all  he  feared  his  God. 

Except  that  it  is  introduced  by  a  word  of  little  weight  or 
dignity,  the  command  to  ruin  is  a  daring  felicity.  The  second 
line  of  the  epitaph  is  a  weak  and  puling  verse. 


ERRATA. 

In  page  17  of  the  Biography,  line  19,  dele  the  word  Treat ;  p  41,  1.  20, 
in  a  few  copies,  for  unsuccessfu/y,  read  unsuccessfully ;  p.  42,  1.  20,  for 
complementary,  read  complimentary. 

In  page  29  of  the  Verse,  line  4,  for  rock,  read  rack  ;  p.  42,  1.  24,  for 
flagrant,  read  fragrant ;  p.  85, 1.  5,  for  rout,  read  route ;  p.  104, 1  5,  for 
bounteous,  read  beauteous  ;  p.  140, 1  6,  for  we'er,  read  e'er  ;  p.  141,  1.  3, 
for  blended,  read  blended ;  p.  155,  1.  3,  for  clamorous,  read  clamorous  ; 
p.  158, 1.  24,  for  banquz't,  read  banquet ;  p.  179, 1.  19,  for  rout, read  route; 
p.  180,1.  29,  for  loviiest  read  loveliest;  p.  181,  1.27,  for  penace,  read 
penawce;  p.  192,  1.  22,  for  mythology,  read  mythology ;  p.  210, 1.  29,  for 
Carthian,  read  Parthian  ;  p.  215, 1.  21,  in  a  few  copies,  for  Fooling,  read 
Foiling ;  p.  233,  1.  19,  for  sport,  read  spot ;  p.  239,  L  10,  for  capital, 
read  capitol ;  p.  255, 1.  11,  for  thy,  read  the  ;  p.  263, 1.  5,  after  the  word 
spheres,  dele  the  period  and  insert  a  comma  ;  p.  289, 1.  16,  for  acron,  read 
acorn  ;  p.  293, 1.  11,  for  floating,  read  floating ;  p.  319  of  the  Prose,  1.  19, 
for  alters,  read  altars;  p. 339, 1.21,  for  appa/ed,read  appa/fed  ;  p. 349,  1. 
21,  for  moat,  read  mole ;  370, 1.  21,  for  Venw*,  read  Venice  ;  p.  373, 1  11, 
for  reflexion,  read  infection ;  p.  394,  1.  25,  turned,  read  turoid  ;  1. 26,  for 
venal,  read  venial ;  p.  400, 1.  20,  dele  the  word  ana";  p  401, 1.  14,  for 
parental^  iscovery,  read  parental  discovery. 


464  NOTES  TO  THE 

p.  233,  1.5. 

OVr  hilly  or  -vale,  where'er  the  sky  descends. 
This  paragraph,  and  the  three  succeeding  paragraphs,  are 
expanded  and  brightened  to  a   pomp  and  splendour,  which 
rarely  discover  themselves  in  other  parts  of  the  poem. 

p.  235,  1.7. 
There,  sacring  mourner,  see  Britannia  sjireads. 


p.  ~ou,  i.  •*. 

Shall  seek  thy  tomb,  to  read  the  tale  it  bears. 

Of  these  four  lines,  the  two  first  are  well  finished.  Collins 
may  be  traced  in  the  two  last. 

p.  236,  1.10. 
His  country  all  he  loved,  and  all  he  feared  his  God. 

Except  that  it  is  introduced  by  a  word  of  little  weight  or 
dignity,  the  command  to  ruin  is  a  daring  felicity.  The  second 
line  of  the  epitaph  is  a  weak  and  puling  verse. 


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